Arcana Custodia
by IsabellaMarieSnape
Summary: In a universe where Voldemort won and all the members of the Order of the Phoenix were killed, OC Artemisia Susvere learns the secrets behind her true parentage, her mother's murder, and the death of her cousin.
1. The Beginning of the End

**A/N: Hey guys, just wanted to say that this is my first attempt at FanFiction, I have been RPing these characters for quite awhile, and so I decided that it was about time to give Artemisia her own story. I plan on updating this at least once every week, most likely on the weekends. As always, reviews are appreciated :)**

**Disclaimer: Only the plot and original characters belong to me (sadly...)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

**December 11, 1990**

Regina Susvere had just gone into labor, her husband, Marcus, was not present. He, like the others of the Inner Circle, had been attending meetings faithfully, waiting for their master's return. Regina had gotten used to it, but it still hurt not to have him near. After all, if she managed to give him a son, it might restore her favor in his eyes. She had opted out of learning her baby's sex months ago because in the event it was a girl, she feared Marcus would make her abort the baby. She knew that after this pregnancy, she would be rendered unfertile. No one really knew why, it seemed she was just unlucky. This meant that she had only one chance to gain her husband's approval, and he wanted a son.

Regina cried out in pain as another contraction hit her. The mediwitch assigned to her came to her side, wiping the sweat off of Regina's forehead, and giving her another pain potion. The mediwitch was a nice lady, very maternal. She had frowned when Regina had told her that her husband was busy and wasn't coming, the witch had felt that it was a husband's duty to stand by his wife as she gave birth. Clearly, Marcus didn't think so.

"Okay, you're about ten centimeters dilated, so go ahead and start pushing." The mediwitch said, calling over the midwife. As the midwife prepared to deliver the baby, the mediwitch held Regina's hand as she began to push.

"Come on, you're almost there! Just a little bit more!" She encouraged, "You can do it! Keep breathing…now push!"

Regina shrieked in pain as the head of the baby pushed out. She took several shallow breaths and pushed again, the baby's shoulders now clear. One more strong push later, and it was over.

"Good job, ma'am! You've done it!" The mediwitch said, as she pushed down on Regina's abdomen to deliver the placenta.

"What…what is it…?" Regina asked weakly, her voice barely audible over the shrill cries of her child.

"A girl, ma'am! A beautiful, healthy, baby girl!" The witch exclaimed, bringing the child to her mother. "What's her name?"

Regina sadly looked at the bundle of blankets that held her child, the child that she knew would not be welcome in this world.

"Her name is Artemisia, Artemisia Susvere." She said, and extended her arms to receive her daughter. As her face came into view, Regina gasped. Her daughter was the perfect combination of her mother and father; Marcus would not be pleased.

**~o~O~o~**

**September 22, 1998**

Artemisia was tired of lessons. Her Uncle Rowen was a perfectly fine instructor, but Artemisia was restless. She wanted to go and play with her cousin, Adelia, but her father had made it perfectly clear that, "No child of mine, no matter how useless and undesired, will forego their education." Artemisia sighed, she knew her father detested her, but she could never understand why. Despite how hard she had tried at her lessons, despite her trying to learn about magic early, nothing seemed to please him. So she had long since given up.

"Please, Uncle Rowen, can't we take a break?" Artemisia pleaded, "I can't concentrate."

He sighed, and agreed, "Very well, we'll resume tomorrow, but only if you promise to focus more on your lessons then."

"Oh yes, Uncle! Of course I will! Thank you!" And with that, Artemisia ran off to find her favorite cousin.

**~o~O~o~**

"Adelia! What shall we do today?" Artemisia asked her excitedly, "Shall we go to the library and see if we can find more potions books?" Artemisia had been fascinated with potions since she first came upon one of her mother's old textbooks when she was five. Ever since, she had been reading as much about it as possible.

"Very well, Misi, let's see if your parent's library has more secrets to share with us." Adelia readily agreed. She was thirteen, five years older than Artemisia, and had already started attending the Nepal Academy for Witches and Wizards. Artemisia was to attend as well once she turned eleven.

Her family's ancestors had built their ancestral home, Susvere Manor, deep within the confines of the Himalayan Mountain. It was only accessible through apparition, and very few people had ever been there. It was also guarded by the Fidelis charm, and as a result, only her family could even see the house.

Artemisia and Adelia made their way to the library, and walked to the very back, where most of the potions books were located. They pulled out several old tomes that looked promising and sat cross-legged on the floor to read.

"I heard Father yelling at Mamma again last night." Artemisia began slowly, breaking the silence. "It keeps happening more and more often…I'm worried, Adi. I keep thinking something bad is going to happen."

"I'm sorry, Misi. What were they fighting about this time? Do you know?" She asked.

"I covered my ears for most of it, but in the beginning I heard Father say that Mamma was a cheap whore, but I don't know what that means. I don't think it was a good thing though, because then Mamma said that she was sorry and she had no idea how it happened, but it had only been one time. That got me real confused because she was making no sense. What was only one time? Anyway, then he started yelling about me, saying that I was nothing to him and that I was lucky he didn't just kill me on the spot…" Artemisia's voice drifted off as her throat became constricted with tears. When she couldn't hold them in any longer, she broke out into full sobs, covering her face in her hands.

Adelia moved closer to her and leaned her against her chest, rocking her back and forth.

"It's okay, Misi, everything is going to be alright…shhh…."

"B-but he wants to k-kill me…"

"I'm sure he didn't mean that…people say things they don't mean when they're angry…"

"But he was using his serious voice! He did mean it! He doesn't love me…"

Adelia said nothing to that. Marcus' feelings about his daughter were common knowledge. Everyone knew that he had wanted a son. Unfortunately, there were complications surrounding her birth, making her mother infertile, and her father had always blamed his only child. Artemisia had grown up knowing that her father hated her, and her mother had always tried to compensate for it, and practically smothered her with affection, material belongings, and everything her heart could want. No one seemed to realize that all she wanted was her father's approval.

**October 31, 1999**

"Artemisia! Come here, we need to speak to you" Regina called from the Sitting Room.

Artemisia came running down the stairs, nearly colliding with Rowen, whose eyes were red from crying.

"What's the matter, Uncle? Are you okay?" She asked, before being dragged into the Sitting Room by her father.

"We figured since your dear cousin Adelia was your friend," He sneered, "We ought to tell you that she was murdered today, three hours ago."

"Merlin, Marcus! Could you not employ a bit more tact! She's only nine years old!" Regina protested, Rowen nodding behind her.

"No, she may be a child now, but she must grow up sometime." Interjected Nicolas, Marcus' father.

During their discussion, no one noticed that Artemisia sank to the floor, knees cradled against her chest, as silent tears made their way down her porcelain cheeks. When someone finally did notice, not a single kind word was spared for her.

"Artemisia! Get up off that floor this instant! And wipe your damn tears, girl. Don't you know that crying makes a person weak!" Her father yelled, "What have I always told you?"

"Never show more emotion than you have to, and never give up all the information you possess."

"Exactly, now we didn't tell you so you'd quit functioning, so quit whining and go about your day."

Artemisia spent the rest of the week in her room, skipping meals and unable to sleep. She would try to, but all she could think of was that the only person who she could actually relate to and talk to was now gone. She felt so alone, as if she had been stranded on a strange and unfamiliar planet.

Eventually she came out looking sickly thin, and her face had taken on an unnatural pallor. She refused to talk to anyone, resorting only to head shakes, nods, and shrugs, to communicate. She did well in her lessons, but then again she no longer had the prospects of fun to distract her. She avoided the library at all costs. The first time she had tried to go in there she had burst into tears and then ran back to her room, burying herself in the blankets on her bed. She had stayed there the rest of the day.

By the time the anniversary of her cousin's death came around, she had made significant progress. She would now speak, eat and sleep, albeit scarcely. She would not speak unless spoken to, choosing to hide behind the curtain of long, raven hair that hung limply on either side of her face. She never ate more than she had to, but she had lost her waxy complexion, and almost looked healthy. She still refused to venture into the library, but she at least had not rejected all things having to do with potions

**November 10, 2000**

Artemisia could hear her parents fighting in the drawing room again. She sighed inwardly, and scurried to her room, trying to remain undetected. She sat in the corner furthest from the door and drew her knees close to her chest. She covered her ears with her hands and slowly began to rock back and forth, humming to herself. she denied herself the luxury of crying, having been conditioned to believe that crying was nothing more than a weakness.

She eventually heard the yelling stop, and after waiting a few minutes, decided to inspect the aftermath of her parents' fight. She hoped no one was injured again. Their last fight ended with several powerful healing spells and potions, and she was sure they were running out. Apprehensive, she peeked around the door frame into the drawing room, and gasped audibly. Her mother was sprawled across the floor, her eyes blank and expressionless. Artemisia's knees trembled as she struggled to remain upright. No! she screamed inwardly, It can't be! Oh mother...mother... She fought hard to rein in her tears, which threatened to betray her presence. Her father was facing away from her, looking out the window, wand still drawn. Without warning, a single sob escaped her, and she clamped her hand down on her mouth instinctively. Her father whirled around, his expression murderous (no pun intended).

"What are you doing here?" He asked, his voice too quiet, given the situation. "Get out." He said. Artemisia froze. She couldn't move if she wanted to.

"I said...GET OUT!" He bellowed. Artemisia forced herself to turn and run down the hall, her tears finally spilling over.

She ran outside, only to find a full-fledged blizzard threatening to blow her off the map. She welcomed it, grateful for the numbness that spread over her as the cold bit into her clothes. It was better than the all-consuming anguish she felt. Sure, she had never been especially close to her mother, but she had loved her, and had been loved by her, which was more than the murderer inside could claim.

She lay in the snow, unable to think, unable to feel. It would be the only time she could claim to be truly at peace. As the cold began to claim her, she slipped willingly into the darkness that beckoned to her.

Her calm, however, was short-lived, as a steely grip grabbed her arm and wrenched her from the ground, effectively destroying her all-consuming fantasy. Her father pulled her back inside to the place that had been her prison for almost 11 years. She knew her life would never be the same, and she grimaced at how cliché that sounded. Nevertheless, she was once again, alone.


	2. A Sense of Belonging

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, nor do I receive money from any of this (unfortunately)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

**November 15, 2000**

"You'll be leaving for London in three hours. Be sure to have your things packed." Marcus sneered. Artemisia was to be sent away to live with her aunt, Belladonna, whose personality was just as poisonous as her name implied.

"Yes, Father." Artemisia replied. Her head was bent down submissively, but her tone betrayed her irritation. If her mother's death had taught her anything, it was that in order to survive amongst her family, she could not show any form of weakness, because weaknesses could be and were exploited.

She walked to her room and confronted her mixed emotions as she laid eyes on the familiar emerald walls of her room. On one hand, she was glad to be leaving her hateful father and the abuse that had become more frequent since her mother's death. However, she doubted that her aunt would be any sort of an improvement.

_I suppose that more than anything, if I were to miss this place, I would miss the familiarity of it._ She thought as she moved to her trunk to finish packing. She had a hard time deciding what to pack, and she knew that she could not pack everything. Her days of having to attend formal dinners were gone, so she decided to forego the vast majority of her dress robes. She focused on the simple, casual, black tailored robes that had become increasingly appealing to her since Adelia's death. She had begun with her mourning robes at the funeral, and had decided to continue with the same color palette after that, feeling that one day, or even one week was not enough time to complete her mourning. Adelia deserved so much more than that.

She sighed, and moved to the small locked box of trinkets she kept hidden under her bed. She wanted to take it, but didn't know if it as a wise idea. Her cousins often made sport of torturing her, and this would just be more ammunition for them to use. On the other hand, however, she could not bear to part with her treasures. In this box was, in essence, her identity. Ever major moment in her life was documented with some token representing it. She figured that she would just take her most treasured objects and leave the rest.

From the box, she first extracted a pair of dark green gloves whose color most closely resembled that of emeralds. They had elegant embroidery along the cuffs in silver thread, the patterns intertwining around her wrists almost as if she was wearing bracelets. They had belonged to her maternal grandmother, and had been given to Artemisia on her grandmother's deathbed. Incidentally, she treasured them and at this point, they were the only real color variation to her wardrobe. With a nostalgic sigh, Artemisia placed the gloves in a secret compartment hidden in the lid of the trunk.

Reaching back into the little box, she pulled out a necklace with an intricately carved pendant. On the back was a delicate engraving that read "R&A", and on the front it had garnets and amethysts encircling, almost cradling a solitary, tiny piece of blue topaz. Artemisia knew that her birthstone was blue topaz, or even turquoise, and mother's birthstone was the amethyst. However, she didn't know who the garnets represented since her father wasn't born in January; he was born in November. Her mother had always told her that she would explain everything when Artemisia was a bit older, but it appeared that such a day would never come.

She took the pendant and fastened it around her neck, hiding it under her shirt. It would do her no good to have her father see it and question its origin. Lastly, she pulled a locket out of the box, and it too was elegantly crafted. It held the only picture of her mother that Artemisia possessed. This too, she tucked safely under her shirt.

Casting one last longing look on her room, she dragged her trunk into the hall and let her father know that she was ready to go. He levitated her trunk to the front of their house, setting it down roughly in the snow.

"Here," He said, producing a small key from his pocket. "This is a portkey, as you should know. When I give it to you, hold on to the edge of your trunk and say 'portus'. It should take you to the front of your aunt's house."

Artemisia wordlessly took the key, and looking at her house one last time, she portkeyed.

**~o~O~o~**

Belladonna was not pleased with Artemisia's arrival, and she made sure to let her know in every way possible.

"You will be sleeping in the room next to Nalicia's, across the hall from Indiel's. Go leave your things and get back down here quickly for dinner." Belladonna said, her voice dripping with ill-disguised malice. "Go on, girl! Don't dawdle!"

Artemisia's lip curled up in a sneer, but complied nonetheless. She tried dragging her trunk up two flights of stairs, frustrated that she didn't know how to levitate object yet.

_How hard could it be, anyway? Why did no one let me learn magic beforehand? And more importantly, what have I ever done to Aunt to make her hate me?_ She thought.

By the time she made it back downstairs, her dinner was cold. _So I guess that's a pretty good estimation of how the rest of this arrangement is going to work out... _

**December 11, 2000**

Artemisia's treatment had not gotten any better in the month that she had been living with her Aunt. If truth be told, it had probably gotten worse. As a result, she was sure that her birthday would most likely go completely unnoticed.

Resigned to this fate, she remained in her room reading her potions texts that she had brought with her. Her favorite at the moment was _8000 Things You Ought to Know About Potions_, she had read only about half of it because she was determined to memorize everything before moving on to the next chapter.

Consumed in her reading, she almost didn't notice the tawny owl that began to tap on her window. Artemisia looked up form her book, startled, and walked to the window and opened it.

When the bird came in, Artemisia untied the letter from the Owl's leg, noting the seal that read: HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Inside was the following:

_Headmaster: Filius Flitwick_

_Dear Ms Susvere,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on 1 September; we await your owl by no later than 31 July._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Severus Snape_

_Deputy Headmaster_

Artemisia was overjoyed! She couldn't wait to get away from her horrid aunt, and could only imagine the freedom and respite that she would get from Hogwarts. She looked back into the envelope and pulled out her supply list that read:

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_UNIFORM_

_First-year students will require:_

_1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags_

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following:_

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_Wand_

_Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_

_Set glass or crystal phials_

_Telescope set_

_Brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad_

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

Oh she couldn't wait to go to Diagon Alley to shop for all this! She was finally getting a wand! She hated the fact that she wouldn't be attending for nearly ten months, but she tried to put such thoughts aside and focus on brighter aspects. For starters, she could get an early start on reading the textbooks and maybe even practicing some simple spells…or maybe even potions! She grinned widely at that, something she hadn't done in months, and realized that for the first time in a long time, she was _happy_.

**July 27, 2001**

"Artemisia! Hurry along now! I don't have time for your dawdling; we have much to get done!" Belladonna yelled at her, trying to push her way through the bustling crowds of Diagon Alley as everyone seemed insistent on purchasing their school things on the same day.

Artemisia just rolled her eyes and followed wordlessly behind her insane aunt.

"Okay, now I have my own errands to run, so here are several hundred Galleons to go buy your school things with. Meet me back here in about four hours if you expect to get back home. If not, then by all means take your sweet time." And with that, she was off in a flurry of robes.

This was not Artemisia's first trip to Diagon Alley, since she was often dragged along to run errands. However, this was the first time she had been set free with close to seven hundred galleons to spend. She knew it would more than cover her expenses, so she wouldn't feel at all guilty for perhaps acquiring more than she actually needed.

She decided to stop at Madame Malkins first to get her school robes. That was easy enough, and she left shortly after getting several changes of clothes, a couple winter cloaks, and her hat and dragonskin gloves.

She continued by going to Flourish and Blotts to get her textbooks. She found them with relative ease, and decided to take advantage of the trip to see if there were any new potions texts that she hadn't read. As she was leafing through a particularly complex book about potions no longer publically taught, she was startled by a deep, silky, menacing voice that spoke to her.

"Are you not a bit young to be reading such a book?" Artemisia looked up and blue eyes met black as she stared at the face of a man much taller than she, dressed in black robes.

"I'm sorry sir, but I have been reading much larger and darker books since I was about eight. My parents had an extensive library." She replied evenly. The man just sneered at her and continued,

"Judging by your stature and the books you intend on purchasing, I am willing to wager that you are a First Year. As such, you should know that students are not permitted to bring dark books or books containing dark magic to Hogwarts, regardless of who the Minister of Magic may be."

"I never said I intended to do such a thing. Besides, even if I did, what does it matter to you?"

"It matters to me, insolent girl, because I'm the one who has to help deal with any dark artifacts that students deem appropriate to bring to school. That is, after all, a Deputy Headmaster's job."

Artemisia's eyes grew a tad bit wider as she heard his job title. _Wow, aren't I an idiot? Here I am, disrespecting the Deputy before I even get to school. Way to start off on the wrong foot…_

"I'm sorry sir; I didn't know who you were. That means you're Professor Snape, doesn't it?"

"Last time I checked. Now I have better things to be doing than to sit around all day engaged in idle chatter with a future student. Now, if you'll excuse me…" And with that, he left.

Artemisia just smirked to herself, thinking how peculiar the man was, after all, he'd been the one to engage her in conversation to begin with. So, after selecting a few more books of questionable content, she paid and left the store.

When buying her potions supplies, she figured that buying a basic ingredients set would not go amiss since she planned on practicing a bit before term started.

She saved her most anticipated purchase until the end: her wand. She stopped in front of Ollivander's, amazed that the man had been alive for so long, and went inside eagerly. He greeted her kindly, and wasted no time in pulling out wands for her to try.

"Alright, this is 9 inch, maple and unicorn hair, springy. Go on, give it a wave!" She waved it, and several windows broke. Startled, she put the wand down cautiously.

"No, definitely not. Okay, try this one: 12 ½ inches, yew and veela hair, flexible." She waved the new wand, and caused the papers that had been on Ollivander's desk to scatter all around the store.

"Hmm, no I suppose not. Although, I wonder…" He mused, walking to the back of the store. He rummaged for a few minutes before emerging with a very old-looking box. He set it out for her, explaining,

"I've had this wand for many centuries; it has never chosen anybody. I can't help but wonder if it'll choose you. It's 13 inches, ebony and dragon heartstring, unyielding."

She swished it, and almost instantly, a shower of emerald sparks flowed from the wand tip, dancing around them as they floated gracefully to the floor.

"Yes, that's definitely the one." He said looking quite satisfied with himself.

"What's so special about this wand, anyway?" Artemisia asked. She wasn't sure he heard her though, because by the time she spoke, he was making his way back to the far end of the store.

"Because, my dear, your father has the exact same wand, with a heartstring from the exact same dragon." He said, before disappearing altogether.

"But my father's wand is made from hawthorn!" She called, but he was already gone from sight. Shrugging, she decided that he was off his rocker and left.

Almost three and a half hours had passed, and she was trying to get back to the designated meeting point when something black and furry caught her eye. She turned her head, only to see a tiny black kitten peering at her from a cage inside the Magical Menagerie. She decided that since she had a few minutes to spare, she would go and take a look.

Further inspection revealed the tiny cat to be male, with icy blue eyes, just like those of Artemisia. The kitten stared at her, as if willing her to understand some message he was trying to convey. In a spur of the moment decision, she decided that having a pet would not be a half bad idea. This is how she came about the cat that would probably become her next best friend.

**~o~O~o~**

Over the course of the next few days, Artemisia struggled with finding a name for her cat. This was partially due to the fact that she wanted it to pick its own name. So, she would compile lists of potential names and read them aloud to him, hoping to garner some sort of positive reaction. Normally, he either ignored her attempts completely or reacted negatively. That is, until one evening.

"Asphodel." She suggested, he merely hissed at her.

"Onyx" If cats could sneer, that's what he would have done.

"Umm, how about Alan?" The kitten's ears perked up as he walked over to her and rubbed his head on her shoulder. "Really? Alan? That's the name you want?" She figured that he was just tired of having to constantly listen to her rattling off names, which took time away from when he was getting petted. He could be a bit selfish when he wanted to be.

Besides the naming of her cat, Artemisia was very busy in the short time before term started. She had read all her textbooks at least once, although she re-read her potions text more than once. She was determined to have all the recipes committed to memory before actually having set foot in class. She had already memorized several and after hearing that the first potion she'd have to brew would be the Boil-Cure Potion, she intended on brewing it at least once to be familiar with it. Not to mention, all this gave her a reason to stay away from her family who expected her to be top of her class like they all had been, or had striven to be.

She began by clearing off her desk to have somewhere to put the cauldron. She pulled out the snake fangs, porcupine quills and horned slugs and placed them around her cauldron. Grabbing her mortar and pestle, she started crushing 6 snake fangs. She added them to the cauldron, making sure it was at the proper temperature. After several minutes, it was time to add four horned slugs, and she grimaced as she dropped them in. She had to wait just a few more minutes until she could add two porcupine quills. After doing so, she made sure to stir exactly five times, clockwise, and then let it sit for a bit before it was time to bottle it.

She worked diligently, and managed to finish before dinner-time. She really wasn't sure if it was right even though it was of the proper color and consistency because for one, she wasn't a potions master, and she also had never brewed it before.

_Oh well_, she thought,_ if nothing else, at least I'm more familiar with the ingredients now_. She moved to bottle the potion and clean up her desk. She really, really couldn't wait for school to start.

**September 1, 2001**

"Hurry up! We need to get to the station or you'll be late! If you make us late, Artemisia, I swear I will leave you there on the platform!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming! Just give me a second; I can't lift my trunk…"

"Ugh, let me see it. Aren't you a witch? That's why we have magic, you daft child!"

"I'm barely going to be a first year! I don't know how to levitate things! You said I could learn magic when I got to Hogwarts!"

"Cheeky girl, get a move on! We don't have all day!"

"I'm hurrying!"

"Well come on now, I've already apparated your cousins to the station, it's your turn! Can you not move any faster? Yes, that's it, now grab my arm and don't forget your trunk." Belladonna yelled, "Oh, and have you remembered your mangy cat? If you think I'm going to care for him while you're off parading around at school, then you've got another thing coming!"

"Yes, I've got him." Artemisia replied curtly, and with that, they apparated.

The scene before them was one of chaos as they entered King's Cross Station. As Artemisia was shoved into the barrier along with her trunk, she found an even more chaotic scene. There were Death Eaters swarming all over Platform 9 ¾ to check the parentage of the students boarding the train. She had read somewhere that when she was eight years old, a great battle had taken place between the Death Eaters, led by Minister Voldemort, and the Order of the Phoenix, led by a man called Harry Potter. The Dark Lord, as he had been called then, won and had named himself Minister of Magic. He had also passed several laws keeping muggleborns from attending Hogwarts. Purebloods and Halfbloods were allowed, although only the family trees of Halfbloods had to be checked.

That was the new thing; everyone in London had started carrying magical family trees as a form of identification since many businesses now simply would not cater to those of "imperfect decent". The trees were self-updating and could not be glamoured or charmed to display anything but the truth. Artemisia, however, like many of the high-ranking Death Eaters' families, was exempt from this rule. Fancy dinner parties were often held at her house and she had attended countless numbers hosted by others which meant that she was already well-known amongst the Death Eaters. They weren't all as bad as everyone said they were, you just had to get to know them. Of course, there were a great many who were every bit as evil as everyone said, but even they had never bothered Artemisia.

This is why, as she briefly said her goodbyes to her aunt and made to get on the train with Alan in hand, she was waved through with nothing more than,

"Have a pleasant day, Miss Susvere."

She, of course, smiled back sweetly and boarded the train. Now, Artemisia knew nobody, as was the case with many of the first-years. Therefore, she resigned herself to sitting alone rather than begging to sit with some other pre-established circle of friends. So as soon as she found an empty compartment, she slipped inside and closed the glass door behind her.

She sat in the seat farthest from the door, with Alan purring gently in her lap as she stroked his sleek fur. She refused to allow herself to relax since she was in such a potentially hostile environment with so many people she did not know roaming about the train. So she made sure her posture was erect and that she maintained a constant state of alertness. It was partially because she was so concentrated on not letting her guard down that when she heard someone speak to her, she nearly jumped a mile.

"Hello, may I sit with you?" Asked a boy who looked to be about as old as she was, with green eyes and dirty blonde hair. Artemisia looked at him in surprise and he continued with a smirk, "All the other compartments are full, and I'd appreciate not having to stand the whole way there".

Artemisia lifted a solitary eyebrow in his direction and after eyeing him warily, she nodded her head toward the seat I front of her.

"Yes, you may sit. That's fine. After all, I hardly need an entire compartment to myself." She said, returning the smirk.

"No, I suppose not." He said, now grinning fully as he sat down opposite her. "I'm Ulric by the way. Ulric Pierce." He said as he extended his hand to her in greeting. She shook it and replied,

"Nice to meet you, my name is Artemisia Susvere."

"As in, related to Marcus Susvere? One of the most powerful Death Eaters of the Inner Circle?" He said, eyes widening in astonishment.

"Yes, he's my father."

"Wow! You look nothing like him."

"So I've heard."

"Did you get your black hair from your mom, then?"

"She was a blonde."

"Ah. Never mind then. How was your summer?"

"It was…adequate, given the circumstances, but in no way one of my best."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Are you excited about going to Hogwarts, at least?"

"Yes, that is one of things I've been looking forward to. I don't particularly fancy my aunt or my cousins, so I welcome the change of scenery."

"Yeah, my folks are crazy too, they're nice though. I like your kitten, by the way, it has really nice fur."

"Yes, he's only about a month and a half old. His name is Alan."

"Alan. Normally I'd say that was a silly name for a cat, but in his case, it really seems to fit him. He certainly has personality, doesn't he?"

Artemisia looked down at the kitten in question and watched as he eyed Ulric suspiciously, never breaking eye contact even as he bent his head slightly to lick his paw. Artemisia laughed softly,

"Yes, I suppose he does. He's been that way since I got him."

"I imagine he is very much like you."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"You seem very…guarded. Very calculating and observant."

"Yes, I suppose anyone who has lived my life would have to be. When you openly cavort with Death Eaters, you tend to develop certain adaptations to keep yourself from getting hurt."

"Hmm, yes I can see what you mean. Your life must be terribly interesting."

"You have no idea."

**~o~O~o~**

They sat in amiable silence for several hours, only the rattle of the train on its tracks breaking the silence. Eventually, they both pulled out books to read; hers on potions, and his about general charms. When it grew closer to the time when they would be arriving, they changed into their school robes which, once they were done, prompted a conversation about which house they expected to be sorted into.

"I'm not really sure, I'm thinking either Slytherin or Ravenclaw. What about you, Artemisia?"

"My whole family has been in Slytherin, so I suppose that'd be most logical."

"Well the way you reasoned that sounded very Ravenclaw." He jibed, grinning at her. She laughed, finally feeling comfortable enough with him to do so.

"Yes, I suppose it did."

"You know what I really, really want to see?"

"What?"

"The giant squid…I hear that every year it eats one of the first years in the last boat. No one even misses them…"

"I sincerely doubt that…"

"You never know, it could happen. Just the same, I plan on being at the head of the line, and I suggest you join me."

Artemisia sighed, but agreed. She had serious doubts about the validity of his claims, but since she had never been to Hogwarts herself, it wasn't like she was in much of a position to argue. Her guess was no better than his.

**~o~O~o~**

When they arrived, they were herded off the train and into boats by Hogwarts' giant Groundskeeper. He seemed friendly enough, but Artemisia still felt a bit nervous around him, and tried not to stare at his size. Ulric, too, was gawking at the massive man until Artemisia elbowed him in the ribs and told him to get in the boat.

The ride to the castle was captivatingly breathtaking, the stars dancing upon the water as if excited to see them all. Artemisia looked up at the castle in awe as she took in its size and beauty.

Needless to say, the giant squid did not make an appearance, much to Ulric's relief and disappointment, since he had constantly been looking over his shoulder to see if he could see a student being pulled down into the inky depths of the lake.

They were led through the giant main doors of the castle and were told to wait at the base of a massive staircase which seemed to continue endlessly. Artemisia and Ulric, of course, made sure they were at the front of the group, insisting on getting the full experience of whatever they were about to go through. They waited there, growing increasingly anxious with every passing moment. Just when they thought they might die with anticipation, the Deputy Headmaster came in, robes billowing dramatically and swirling around him as he came to a stop before them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Professor Snape, Deputy Headmaster and Potions Master. In a few moments, the start-of-term banquet will begin, but before you are allowed to take your seats, you will be sorted. The sorting is crucial because it determines which house you will remain in for the remainder of your years here. The four houses are Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. While here at Hogwarts, you will be granted house points for your accomplishments, and deducted points for any and all rule-breaking. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup, which is highly coveted by each house. Now, I will return for you when everything is set up and ready, so I suggest you wait quietly."

With that, he swirled back out of the hallway and into what Artemisia could only guess was the Great Hall. True to his word, he returned to collect them and ushered them in through the door, sighing impatiently at their awed gasps and collective murmurs of appreciation.

"Yes, yes, the ceiling is enchanted. You will have seven years to look at it, you needn't hinder progress by gaping like fish at it now." He said with a scowl.

Artemisia smirked, yes she was going to like this teacher, as his thoughts seemed to parallel hers.

Eventually, the sorting actually started, and most of the first years were looking at the Sorting Hat with something akin to disbelief. _This_ was going to determine their fate? Professor Snape stood off to the side with a long parchment in his hands, and prepared to call the names of the new students.

"…Augustine, Michael…"

"Ah, yes, definitely GRYFFINDOR!"

"…Avery, Jasmine…"

"Hmm…must be…RAVENCLAW!"

"…Collins, Derick…"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"…McNair, Brandon…"

"Definitely SLYTHERIN!"

This went on for awhile, and Artemisia was growing a bit anxious, and she noticed Ulric was in a similar state. Finally, it was his turn,

"…Pierce, Ulric…"

"Hmm, where to put you? Cunning, and very intelligent…best be, SLYTHERIN!"

The Slytherin table cheered and applauded their new member, and he smiled at Artemisia happily and encouragingly. When it was her turn, she noticed the Professor staring at her curiously as she placed the hat upon her head, but thought little of it.

"Hmm, yes. You, my dear would go far in nearly every house, but where to put you…? I think, in light of recent events, it'll have to be, SLYTHERIN!"

She happily walked to the Slytherin table and took a seat next to Ulric. As the sorting finished, they all looked to the front of the room, where a tiny man had to stand on a stool to reach the podium.

"Greetings!" He said, "As many of you already know, I am Headmaster Flitwick, and I have just a few announcements before letting you all eat." He smiled kindly at that.

"First off, the Forbidden Forest is still, as it has always been, FORBIDDEN. Any wandering into it will lead to heavy punishment of the unpleasant kind. Second, curfew is being strictly enforced this year, which for first and second years is 8pm on weekdays, and 9pm for all the upper years. On weekends, curfew is extended for everyone until 10pm. Now, with that settled, we may all eat!"

With a flourish of his hands, copious amounts of food appeared on each table, and students began piling food on their plates.

Artemisia took a moment to consider the path her life had taken since the previous year. Seeing all her classmates completely engrossed in their conversations and their meals, for the first time in a long time, Artemisia felt as if she actually belonged. Yes, this was most certainly going to be a good year.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I tried my hardest to make sure the letters and dates were as close to cannon as I could make them, considering the alternate universe this is staged in. The next chapter begins with the first day of classes and various first impressions, as well as the beginning of the many misadventures Artemisia is going to be taking part in. As always, reviews are more than welcome! (They might even make the chapters come faster!)**


	3. More Questions than Answers

**Chapter 3**

Artemisia had just sat down on the corner of one of the beds in the Girls Dormitory when a large girl with a squashed-looking face walked up to her, sneering distastefully.

"Move. I want that bed." She commanded. Artemisia looked at her levelly and raised her chin in defiance.

"Absolutely not. My things have been brought to this bed, and that is where they shall remain."

"Did I ask you for excuses? No, I didn't. Now MOVE!" She yelled, but Artemisia held her ground. She was actually a bit puzzled by this girl's behavior. She didn't know her, and she certainly had never done anything to offend her…had she?

"No, you're a first year just like everyone else in this room; I don't have to do a damn thing you say. I suggest you leave me alone before anyone hears your yelling and comes up here." She replied, trying to keep her voice even, although panic was slowly building within her.

"No one defies me! My father's a Death Eater; one word from me and you won't even feel safe on Hogsmeade trips!" Artemisia snickered on the inside as she considered the girl's words. She certainly was full of herself and for no good reason either.

"I hardly see how that's intimidating, my father's Marcus Susvere, he's an Inner Circle Death Eater. I don't see how I have anything to fear."

The girl's eyes widened slightly, and then narrowed again. She scowled at Artemisia and then began laughing loudly, frighteningly. Artemisia nearly breathed a sigh of relief when the girl turned around, but the breath was stolen from her when the girl whirled around, her fist meeting Artemisia's face soundly, resulting in a loud 'CRACK'. Artemisia was thrown to the ground, the girl's fists still flailing and meeting different parts of her body. She tried to fight, she really did, and several of her punches found their mark, but she was really rather lacking in upper body strength. Just as her world began to swirl around her, it all stopped. All she heard was a voice speaking,

"Miss Crabbe, that will be 30 house points and detention with Filch for a week. Miss Susvere, can you stand?"

She lifted her head weakly and found herself staring into the fathomless black eyes of her Head of House. He was standing over her, countenance cold and hard. She stood on shaky knees, but managed to stay standing without losing all of her already damaged dignity.

"Yes sir, thank you. I'll be fine." He quirked his lips marginally, almost as if smirking, but the movement was too miniscule.

"Be that as it may, you will accompany me to my office." Swirling his robes behind him as he stood and started walking, expecting her to follow, which she did. Entering his office, he shut the door and motioned to one of the chairs in front of his desk. He sat, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he looked at her consideringly. She met his gaze, waiting for him to talk, not going to be the one to break the silence.

After a few minutes, he sighed and reached into his desk drawer, pulling out several bottled potions and a small tub of salve. He set them on his desk in front of her, and motioned for her to take them. She looked at them warily, and was about to ask what they were for, but her beat her to it.

"The blue ones are for healing, and the salve is for bruises. I suggest you take them." She did, and immediately felt better.

"Thank you sir." He merely nodded.

"Why did you not defend yourself?"

"In case you haven't noticed, sir, I'm not exactly well-equipped to do so." He raised a solitary eyebrow to this, and waited for her to continue.

"However, I assure you, if I were capable, she would not be conscious right now." Upon hearing this, he smirked fully.

"Miss Susvere, I must remind you, you are a Slytherin. We do not reveal our motives, or how we plan on acting on them. Open displays of bravery are welcome only in Gryffindor. They specialize in open confrontation. You'd be better off handling things indirectly. Interpret that as you will."

He rose from his seat, and she took her cue to leave.

"Thank you sir, I will consider what you said." She said, and he nodded as he walked over to the door to open it for her. She exited without another word and returned to her dorm. By this time, everyone was asleep.

She took a moment to look down at Alan, who was curled up on her pillow, looking at her shrewdly.

"What am I to do, Alan? Not even a full day here and already I've made enemies. What on earth is wrong with me?" She whispered to him sadly. He seemed to look at her sympathetically and stood up, moving to the side so she could draw down the bed sheets. After crawling in and making herself comfortable, he rejoined her, lying on her pillow above her head as he had done since the first night she had had him.

"Goodnight, Alan. Perhaps the morning will be more pleasant than tonight was."

He merely purred in response.

**~o~O~o~**

The next morning, Artemisia made sure to be the first awake and leave before anyone else got up. She figured it would be the only way to avoid another confrontation.

So at around 6:30am she was sitting at the Slytherin table with her book bag, waiting for breakfast to be served. It wouldn't be served for another half hour, but she knew her roommates were planning on waking up at 7:30 because she heard them discussing it before she had been attacked.

Just as she was getting quite caught up in her reading, she heard the doors of the Great Hall open, and the room was filled with the voices of at least three students yelling and talking loudly. It wasn't until they suddenly fell silent that she decided to lift her head.

When she did, she realized that she was being stared at by four first-year Gryffindors who grinned mischievously.

"Oh lookie what we have here! A little snake all alone in lion territory." Said one of them, a girl with short blonde hair who looked unpleasant.

"I don't know Sarah; she looks kind of…vulnerable." Said a tall, lanky boy with messy brown hair. One corner of his shirt was untucked and his hands were lazily residing in his pockets. "Perhaps we should…introduce ourselves…"

The other two boys nodded enthusiastically, maliciously. They came to stand by her, but Artemisia just kept on holding her book, glancing at them over the top. She hoped they wouldn't notice how white her knuckles had gotten from gripping the book, as if clutching a life saver.

The boy with the messy hair introduced their odd group,

"I'm Michael, this is Sarah, and their names are John and Derrick." He said, motioning towards the two other boys. The one named John was as tall as Michael, but his hair was blonde and he seemed to be a bit neater in his grooming. The fourth member, however, Derrick, was shorter and wore glasses. He was also rather scrawny, but still seemed stronger than Artemisia. His hair was light brown and hung into his eyes a bit.

"What's your name?" Michael asked

"What's it to you?" She replied defensively.

"Whoa, calm down little viper! We just want to talk…" At this, his friends snickered. Artemisia just narrowed her eyes at him.

"What makes you think I'm interested in talking to you?" Artemisia was still sore from the previous night, and frankly, she couldn't believe that this was happening again. Different house, different people, same concept.

Sarah sneered at her and brought her face very near to Artemisia's, who instinctively held her ground defiantly. She lowered the book in front of her face and brought it to rest on the bench at her side.

"You will soon learn, little garden snake, who is not to be trifled with at this school. These are dangerous times not to have any friends." She mocked cruelly. As she did so, John wasted no time in snatching Artemisia's book from her grasp. She whipped around to face him, but he held it far above her head. She then felt Sarah push her from her seat, and Artemisia barely managed to prevent herself from falling.

She stood quickly and grabbed her book bag, which Derrick was threatening to take from her. She yanked it from his grasp, punching him square in the jaw as she did so, not thinking about the consequences of such an action.

When the others realized what she did, Michael turned to grab Artemisia from behind by her arms, pulling them behind her painfully. She tried to wrestle away from him, but he held her strong. Sarah took advantage of Artemisia's position by punching her in the stomach. Artemisia doubled over in pain, but refused to make a sound. She would not give them the pleasure of hearing her in pain.

Just as she thought her situation couldn't possibly get worse, she heard the doors of the Great Hall open again as bleary-eyed students walked hungrily to their tables, and in an instant, she was dropped to the floor in a heaping mass, and her book was thrown on top of her as the quartet walked to the Gryffindor table, seemingly innocent.

Artemisia gathered herself, sat down again and pretended to read, but her eyes were blurry with uncried tears. She was so caught up trying to control the emotions threatening to betray her that by the time she looked up again, the Great Hall was almost completely full of students.

Within moments, Ulric was seated beside her and was serving himself breakfast. Artemisia had lost her appetite.

"Hey, how'd you sleep last night?" He asked

"Fine." He eyed her curiously, but continued anyway

"Yeah, I'm rather excited for classes today. Are you?"

"I suppose so. I've had…other things on my mind." _Yeah, like being constantly assaulted_, she thought bitterly.

"Oh, well I hope we have classes together. We should be getting our schedules in a few minutes. Look, Professor Snape is already passing out Ravenclaw's."

Artemisia lifted her head to see the dour professor hurriedly passing out sheets of paper.

"Yes, it shouldn't be long, given the speed at which he's passing them out. One would think they were cursed." She said with a small grin.

When they finally got their schedules, they wasted no time in comparing them to see if any of their classes overlapped, which they did. It turned out that they had seven classes together, as well as a free period on Thursdays after lunch.

"Well I guess we're off to transfiguration!" Ulric announced happily, and got up from the table, courteously offering his hand to Artemisia, who took it out of the same courtesy. They never noticed the set of eyes watching them with annoyance.

**~o~O~o~**

Artemisia and Ulric's Transfiguration class went by fairly well, and they were the first two to correctly change a piece of straw into a needle. They parted ways afterwards, and she walked off to her History of Magic class, which was still taught by Professor Binns, still oblivious to the fact that he was a ghost. Charms class passed much in the same way as she learned to levitate objects_. About damn time!_ She thought. Needless to say, she was relieved when lunch finally came, since she had skipped breakfast and was now starving.

She walked back down to the Great Hall, until she saw the four Gryffindors at the end of the hallway. Apparently they saw her too, because they began walking towards her. Not even stopping to think, she turned and walked briskly down the first flight of stairs she saw. She looked over her shoulder to see that they were still following her, and she nearly broke into a sprint, running down several more flights of stairs. Finally, she chose a hallway at random and began to run down it, knowing that they were still behind her somewhere. She took a few more turns in random directions, and when it became apparent that they were going to keep following her until they caught her, she ducked into the first classroom she could find.

She closed the door of the classroom as silently as she could, hoping they didn't see her. She was catching her breath, still facing the door when a voice rang out, startling her and causing to spin around on the spot.

"Miss Susvere, is there something you require?" Professor Snape sneered down at her, coming to stand in front of his desk. She spared a quick glance around the class, noting the jars of preserved organs and organisms and realizing that she was indeed in the potions classroom.

"Umm…I'm sorry sir, I didn't realize what room I walked into."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"No, I don't require anything. I'll just be going…" She said, slowly turning back to the door. She really, really hoped that they were gone, but with her luck, they were probably waiting outside for her.

"Miss Susvere, why did you enter in the first place?" She froze in place, and turned back to face him, eyes wide like a deer caught in muggle headlights.

"No reason, I guess I was just…familiarizing myself with the castle…I wouldn't want to be late to your class because I got lost, after all." She lied, not wanting to explain what really drove her to seek refuge in the room. He had witnessed enough of her humiliation as it was.

"Would your _familiarization_ have anything to do with the events of this morning?" He asked, and when her eyes widened slightly, he continued, "Yes, I thought so. After all, if your behavior was as innocuous as you claim, you would not have burst in here struggling to catch your breath." He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for her reply.

She sighed, realizing that she was caught. Still, she was certain that she'd rather brave her Professor's displeasure than that of her classmates, ironically enough.

"Yes sir, they were following me and I hid, like a coward." She admitted

"There is nothing cowardly about refusing to fight when the odds are so unfairly stacked against you. They are the cowards, Miss Susvere, for they can only feel secure if the odds are four against one." He said harshly, and he swiveled on his heel as he returned to his desk.

"If I am not mistaken, you did not eat breakfast either. It would not do to have you distracted in my class. I will have a house elf bring us lunch. You are welcome to stay if you so desire."

Artemisia was a bit dumbstruck by his words. He had been painted as moody and cruel, but then again, all the accusations she had heard had come from students in other houses. Perhaps he was being amiable because she was in Slytherin? She pondered this as she took her seat in the front row. She pulled out the book she had been reading at breakfast as she waited for the house elf.

"I thought I told you such books were prohibited at Hogwarts." He said, not looking up from his desk where he was writing what appeared to be letters of some sort.

"It's not the same book, sir. This one is significantly less dark; it deals with complex potions theory."

"Title?"

"_Altering Volatile Potions_, by Aspen Prenic." Snape's lips tipped upwards.

"Brilliant writer."

"He's my favorite writer; I've read nearly all his books."

"As have I. Pray tell, which is your favorite?"

"Well this one at the moment. I've read it at least five times, but I'm also quite fond of _The Art of Potions Explained for Those of Little Intelligence,_ as well as _Potions for Assassins: Undetectable Poisons._"

"I'm fairly certain the latter is not meant for your age group, and the former perhaps too simplistic, given what you apparently prefer to read."

"The former I read when I was about five, and the latter's potions I will most likely not attempt to brew." She replied, and after a moment's consideration added, "If for no other reason than I have no realistic way to use them, even if I do have them all memorized."

His eyebrows rose at her last confession and decided to test her claim.

"Page 547."

"Excuse me?"

"Recite the ingredients required for the potion on page 547."

"Oh, that's the Draught of Hades. You need 7 crushed Henbane seeds, 3 Hemlock leaves, powdered Graphorn horn, diced Hellebore roots, minced Dragon liver, and fermented Cypress bark. That is, unless you wish to substitute the Cypress for Common Rue."

"And why would one wish to do such a thing?"

"Because since in their original form they are used as antidotes, by fermenting them that property is reversed. One would substitute Common Rue because it is a stronger antidote, thus creating a nearly irreversible poison."

"Precisely. What was the fifth footnote on that page?"

"It stated that if brewed properly with fresh ingredients, not even a bezoar would be able to counteract the poison."

"I have only ever had one other student who could recite from a textbook as accurately as you do. She, however, was in Gryffindor, and was an insufferable know-it-all."

"Besides her house, how do I differ?"

"Were you not listening? She was insufferable. I _asked_ you to recite, she recited whether or not she was asked to. I trust, however, that you have been able to formulate your own opinions and questions about what you read?"

"Of course, sir. For example, why could one not just add a fermented bezoar? Would that not produce the same results?"

"No, for when fermented, it releases several unwanted chemicals which make the potion unstable and unsafe for use. Not to mention, it decreases its shelf life."

"I see. Yes, that makes sense."

"Indeed. Now I suggest you eat before your food gets cold."

She glanced down; surprised that she hadn't noticed her food's appearance. She was so caught up in potions talk that her hunger had barely registered in her brain. Nevertheless, she heeded his warning and began to eat, suddenly famished.

They continued in comfortable silence, she reading and he writing. After a while, however, he announced that class would be beginning soon and that she ought to get to class. She then pointed out that she had double potions with him that day, to which he merely nodded. Her now empty plates disappeared and she got out her quill and parchment, ready to take notes.

The class eventually began to shuffle in, and Ulric once again appeared at her side.

"Wow, you sure get to class early."

"I, uh, had a question to ask Professor Snape." She was really starting to become a compulsive liar.

"Oh okay then. How was your lunch? I didn't see you in the Great Hall."

"Oh, I went to the library to check something regarding a potion." Yup, her habit was definitely starting to be compulsive.

"Cool! Did you find what you needed?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Five points from Slytherin. Class has started, talking is unacceptable." Snape said, scowling at both of them.

"Sorry, sir." They said in unison, heads dropping slightly.

"As I was saying, I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses...I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory and even put a stopper in death. That is, if you aren't as big of dunderheads as those I normally have to teach."

Artemisia was mesmerized by his words, poetry that seemed to speak to her soul, drawing out her love for the subject and articulating it in a way she never thought possible. Even thoroughly engrossed in his speech, she could not help but feel his words were strangely familiar. She could not place it, but she was certain she had heard it somewhere before. Perhaps if she asked him he would tell her? Taking one look at the expression on his face, she promptly decided against it.

He tapped the chalkboard in the front of his class with his wand, and immediately, spidery handwriting appeared, detailing the lesson's objectives. As Artemisia had heard, the Boil-cure potion was the first they had to brew, and she was excited to finally be trying it for a grade.

She all but grabbed everything out of Ulric's hands as she started on the potion, assigning him the more menial tasks of cutting and crushing. The instructions on the board said that its final color was supposed to be between a navy blue and a more turquoise blue, depending on its quality. She glanced over the ingredients, and on a whim, decided to try adding an extra snake fang, which was what decreased the swelling of the boil, as well as an extra fourth of a horned slug, which contained the healing properties. Ulric saw what she did and tried to correct her, but she wouldn't let him, saying that she knew what she was doing.

When they were finished, their potion was a bright, vibrant purple, and Ulric was nervously passing his hands though his hair. Artemisia, however, sat calmly in her seat as she waited for her professor to come around and check it.

When he did, his face betrayed no emotion, he simply walked over, sniffed it, and told her to bottle it and bring it to his desk.

"For homework, I expect a three foot long essay on the purpose of porcupine quills in medicinal potions, and how it differs from their purpose in other varieties of potions. This will be due Wednesday, no exceptions."

When he dismissed the class, she picked up her book bag, trying to ignore Ulric's concerned rant about his grade and how he hoped they would be allowed to make it up. Before she could actually leave the classroom, she heard,

"Miss Susvere, you will stay after class." She nodded, Ulric giving her a sympathetic look before she turned and walked over to his desk, standing in front of it expectantly. Once all the students had left, he spoke again.

"Do you know why I kept you after class?"

"Because my potion was not of the desired color?"

"No, because you made deliberate alterations and I want to know why."

"Because the make the potion more effective."

"How do you know this?"

"As I mentioned during lunch, I have read a great deal about potion theory and alterations. I'm fairly certain if one were to do the arithmantic calculations, my alterations would have checked out."

"Do you realize that it's very dangerous to do such a thing? When you're a first year, nonetheless?"

"Yes, but it worked, and no one got hurt. I don't understand why you're upset."

"BECAUSE, had it NOT worked, I would be sending several students to the Hospital Wing, and that is an INCREDIBLE amount of paperwork to fill out. Any future alterations you wish to make will have to be authorized by me, or you will receive point loss and detention."

"I understand."

"Very well, now leave. You are dismissed."

She curtsied in front of him and then turned to leave. She didn't make it far before she was stopped again.

"Miss Susvere, what was that?"

"What was what?"

"You curtsied."

"Oh, it's a force of habit. Father makes me bow whenever I address him or the other Death Eaters."

"I see. You will not do that again."

"Sorry, sir. It wasn't intentional." She said, exiting the room. He was a strange, strange man indeed.

**~o~O~o~**

After nearly three hours spent in Potions, Artemisia was thoroughly ready for a break. She decided to go to the library since she had yet to go and she desperately wanted to see their selection on Potions texts.

When she entered, she was completely awestruck. The school library was even larger and offered more selection than her father's. Seeing the rows and rows of books that seemed to go on endlessly made her feel as if she could spend an eternity here and still not gather all the knowledge it had to offer.

She immediately raced to the potions section and began skimming through titles. Several she recognized, and a great deal more she didn't. In her mind, it was like a dream come true. Why, it was nearly comparable to Christmas! She decided that she ought to at least start researching for her essay, and she did so.

Several hours later, she left the library and walked down to eat dinner. She sincerely hoped that dinner wouldn't be the same as breakfast, or lunch for that matter. She doubted that Professor Snape would take too kindly to her taking meals in his classroom permanently. She smiled in spite of herself at the image that presented in her head.

When she walked through the doors to the Great Hall, most of the students were already there, among them, Ulric. She walked over to him, for once thankful not to be alone, and sat down, listening to him rant about his classes. In truth, she really didn't hear much of anything he said, she was too busy making sure neither the large Slytherin girl nor the Quarrelsome Quartet took notice of her. She had grinned internally when she came up with her nickname for the four Gryffindors.

She tried to refocus her attention to at least have some idea about what Ulric was saying, but she found it very hard to do so until he asked her an actual question that required an actual answer.

"So what did Snape want?"

"_Professor_ Snape, Ulric, and not much. He just wanted to tell me that it was dangerous to experiment without his approval, and to ask him next time. We got a hundred."

"Wow. He seemed really angry, though. Hey, do you think you can help me with potions? I really like the subject, but I don't really understand the theory behind it, you know what I mean? Like, I like mixing stuff together, but I don't get why some ingredients do what they do."

"Sure, as long as you're willing to read unholy amounts of books." She said, grinning widely.

"Yeah, I like reading, but the books never made much sense to me, and I never knew which ones to read."

"If you meet me tomorrow in the library after classes, I'd be happy to give you a reading list to get you started. Then when you're done, we can discuss it."

"Okay, great! So have you started the Potions essay?"

"Of course. I finished most of the preliminary research today, so tomorrow I plan to actually write it."

"Oh okay. Yeah, I was going to do it tomorrow during my free period."

"That's probably a good idea."

They sat in comfortable silence after that, mostly listening to the conversations floating around the room and eating their dinner. Afterwards, they got ready for their Astronomy class, which passed uneventfully. Artemisia decided that she was not terribly fond of the subject, since she would much rather be either on the library, or asleep in bed. Not staring at stars.

**~o~O~o~**

The next few weeks passed by quickly, and Artemisia set into a sort of forced routine. She would meet in the library with Ulric on a daily basis, and he was making decent progress. It had gotten to the point where they could actually debate over the more menial aspects of potion making, but it was still a debate, which Artemisia appreciated.

The Quarrelsome Quartet was still intent on making her life hell, and they often ambushed her in corridors once they learned her schedule. She was very resentful about it and took pains not to take the same route to class every day, even if it resulted in her tardiness to class. The teachers asked if there was any specific reason she was late, and she would always deny anything other than she lost track of time. It got to the point where most teacher just stopped asking and began deducting anywhere from one to five house points, hoping that it would encourage punctuality. It never did.

As time went on, even the point deductions stopped and the teachers just stopped caring. That is, all of them except Professor Snape. One Wednesday after a double potions class, he kept her after, and called her to his desk.

"Miss Susvere, I am not going to ask you this again. WHY have you made it a habit to be perpetually tardy?"

"Sir, I told yo-"

"Do NOT lie to me, Miss Susvere." He said icily.

"I…I cannot always take a direct route to class. I need to keep my actions sporadic."

"Am I to understand that your _situation_ has not improved since the beginning of the year?"

"Yes sir. If anything, it has gotten worse." She admitted.

"I see. Have you told no one about it?"

"I don't need pity."

He nodded, as if he truly understood her situation.

"Very well Miss Susvere, you are dismissed."

Before she could answer, he had already gone into his office, leaving her standing in front of his desk in an empty classroom. She shook her head and sighed. She never really knew what to make of him. Unfortunately, Ulric was expecting her in the library and she was about to be late.

Indeed, once she entered the library, she found him sitting at a table piled high with potions textbooks. He was already reading the books she had read when she was about six, and in her mind it was wonderful progress. As soon as he saw her arrive, his face lit up, mostly because now he had someone to answer his questions.

"Okay, so when brewing the Draught of Living Death, the more juice you manage to extract from a Sopophorous Bean, the better, right?"

"Correct. "

"So then slicing is impractical?"

"Well, yes. Slicing is traditional, and Potions Masters tend to like that. Unfortunately, slicing is also dreadfully difficult. I have found that crushing them with the side of a knife is much better, considering."

"Thank you for helping me with this. Already, I feel that I've learned so much! It's too bad this is all theory, though. I wish there was someplace we could go to actually brew all of this…"

"I know, I've been wishing that since my first day here."

"Well, we have a few hours before dinner, what do you say to a bit of exploring? Maybe there's an unused classroom that can be used as a potion's lab?"

"I must admit, that is an excellent idea. We mustn't be seen though. I don't really feel like explaining what we're doing looking for a place to brew potions."

"True, so let's start!" And with that, Ulric jumped from his seat, shrinking the books on the table and placing them in his book bag. They decided to just walk down random corridors and see where they would take them.

They had gone through nearly twenty rooms, none of them being any more than classes filled with rows and rows of desks and chairs, although some of them seemed to be used for storage purposes. Artemisia was about to call off their search, when as Ulric said, "I mean, how hard could it be to find a place to brew potions, anyway?" a door appeared to their immediate left.

Artemisia gasped softly and pointed at it, and when Ulric noticed, he too, gasped.

"Should we go in?"  
>"I don't know. It appeared out of nowhere. I doubt that's a good sign, Ulric."<br>"Let's go in…" He finally decided, reaching tentatively for the doorknob.

As he opened it, Artemisia gasped again, but louder this time.

"Oh Merlin! It's perfect!" She exclaimed, going inside to get a better look. If there was a heaven, she was certain she had just found it. One wall was lined with massive bookshelves already containing old potions texts, but with plenty of room to add more. The opposing wall was lined with cupboards which under closer inspection revealed multitudes of potions ingredients, as well as cauldrons large and small, mortars and pestles, knives of varying sizes, stirring rods, and the like. In the middle of the room there were two large tables for potion making and to the side, there were two desks facing each other, already stocked with plenty of quills, ink, and parchment.

"Do you think anyone is using this room?" He asked quietly

"Given the dust that lines everything, I would assume not. It appears not to have been used for years, if not decades!" She reasoned, running her hand over one of the tables.

"You know," she said, "I bet that with a little bit of work, we could make this room usable. What do you think?"

"Hey, I can do a bit of housework if it means I get to start brewing!" He replied excitedly.

"Very well, tomorrow after lunch we'll start working on it."

**~o~O~o~**

The days continued to pass by, and slowly but surely, their new potions lab grew cleaner and cleaner until it was ready for use. They began to not only brew complex potions, but also experiment with them, Ulric learning quickly, desperate to catch up to Artemisia. While he still had a long way to go, he was progressing very quickly and was very proud of himself.

With all the activity and excitement surrounding her new pastime, Artemisia was almost able to forget about her family, an illusion that was drastically shattered during breakfast.

"So, Artemisia, are you going home for the holidays or staying here?" Ulric asked her as he ate his pancakes. It was the middle of December and quite frankly, Artemisia had never thought about it. She had never once received any kind of mail from her family, and hadn't thought that was going to change at all. She was rather pleased about it, to be perfectly honest.

"I don't know, Ulric. I was thinking about sta-" Her words were cut off as the Great Hall suddenly was overcome by hordes of owls delivering the post. What surprised her the most was a large Eagle Owl landing on her plate, dropping a letter in her lap, and eating her sausages.

She didn't even notice the sausage theft as she opened the letter. It read:

_Artemisia,_

_Your father has decided that you are to return for the holidays. There is a ball you are required to attend, so make sure to pack accordingly. _

_-Belladonna Pardus_

Artemisia sighed heavily.

"Never mind Ulric, it appears I am leaving for Christmas."

"You don't seem pleased."  
>"Not in the least. They're a horrid bunch, but I have no say in the matter. I suppose we'll be seeing each other after the break."<p>

"You'll write, right?"

"I shall try. It's like being in prison, everything I do is regulated, monitored, supervised. It's a wonder I ever have time to myself. Especially since I'm supposed to attend another one of my father's parties."

"Hmm, very well. If not, then I suppose you'll have to tell me all about it when we get back?" He asked hopefully

"Yes, of course, I certainly will." She reassured him, smiling.

**~o~O~o~**

Confirming her suspicions, the first letter she tried to send was swiftly intercepted by her aunt, who burned it in front of her. She had said that it was too dangerous a time to be corresponding with anyone. Artemisia had scoffed and asked how dangerous it could truly be, and her aunt had, albeit curtly, explained that Artemisia's father was in a precarious position with the Minister of Magic, and that he couldn't afford any untoward actions coming from anyone in the family. Artemisia merely sighed and went back to reading, sad that she was cut off from the world.

"Why is it, Alan, that my family seems so bent on my unhappiness?" She asked him one night as she was getting ready for bed.

"Surely they are the ones who ought to be encouraging it, are they not? And why all the secrecy? I'm never told a thing, and yet I'm berated for not knowing."

She brushed her long, ebony colored hair as she stared at the vanity mirror she was seated in front of. Her mind wandered a bit and she remembered what Ulric had said when he had first met her, something about her looking nothing like her father. To be honest, she had never really given it much thought before, but now that she really considered it, it was glaringly obvious. Her father's face was wide and his nose very large and round. His eyes were green, and were probably his best feature, for he was also a bit heavyset and shorter than average, with large sausage fingers that were exceedingly clumsy.

Artemisia, on the other hand, had dark, piercing blue eyes and a thin, long, aristocratic nose. She had put on a bit of weight during her months at Hogwarts, but was still quite slender and taller than most of the girls in her year, although shorter than most of the boys. Her hands, too, were very slender, and her mother had always said she had the hands of a pianist.

She supposed she looked a bit like her mother, from whom she had obviously gotten her eyes and body shape, but other than that, she really didn't look like _anyone_ in her family.

_Well, except for Grandmother. She was said to have had black hair before it grayed. _She thought, trying desperately to find some resemblance to her relatives. A soft mew behind her caused her to turn her head to find Alan glaring at her, almost as if he was willing her to accept that which she could not seem to.

"No, Alan. Don't give me that! I _refuse_ to think further about it, and you might as well do the same. I am going to bed now since that stupid ball is tomorrow night." She chided as she pulled down the bedcovers and got inside. Putting out the lantern on her nightstand, she attempted sleep.

**~o~O~o~**

Artemisia spent the next day trying not to think about the revelations she had made the previous night, but her efforts were in vain for there was nothing she thought of _besides_ it. She waited impatiently for the party to start because once it was over, she'd be returning to school, and that was singularly the only thing she had to look forward to.

Eventually, after what seemed like years, she was told to get dressed. Specifically in a color other than black, to which she scowled. She looked through her dress robes, feeling that they all looked by far too festive, but finally chose some that were of a dark, rich green. They were so dark, that at night they could easily be mistaken for black, which was her only consolation. From what she had heard, it was to be a masquerade party, the Death Eaters simply wearing their usual masks. She decided that since she was there against her will, she'd wear her mother's amulet out of spite. As she was putting on her earrings, emeralds encircled by smaller diamonds, one of them fell, slipping into a small crack in the floorboards.

She cursed under her breath, and kneeled to inspect the crack that was actually almost a quarter inch thick at its widest and several inches long. She grabbed her wand and tried to use it to pry the floorboard up. After several attempts, it lifted, and she hurriedly removed it, not wanting to be late and experience her father's anger.

What she found, however, when she retrieved her earring, was a large stack of nearly fifty letters. Artemisia knew that this was the house her mother had grown up in, but hadn't know that the room she was staying in used to be her mother's. That fact was glaringly obvious as she realized that the correspondence was between her mother and…and Aspen Prenic!

Artemisia's eyes widened with the realization that her mother had known her favorite author in what appeared to be a rather intimate manner since the first letter began, _Dearest Aspen_. She was about to start reading them, when a loud pounding at her door reminded her that her tardiness was not a good idea. She hastily shoved them into the secret compartment of her trunk, resolving to read them as soon as she got back home, and finished getting ready.

**~o~O~o~**

The party, like all the others before it, was lavish and wasteful (in Artemisia's opinion). She, as expected, walked around socializing with her father's acquaintances and friends, trying to appear as pleased to see them as propriety dictated.

She was eventually asked to dance by several of the Death Eaters and their sons, a few of which she knew from school. At one point, she found herself dancing with the one person she would never have assumed to attend. In her defense, she had no idea that it was her professor until he spoke, his voice certainly unlike any other.

"Miss Susvere, I had not expected you to be here."  
>"I could say the same, Professor."<p>

"True, but surely this is no place for a twelve year old. Aren't you intimidated by the amount of Death Eaters in this establishment?" He said mockingly, especially since he too, wore the Death Eater mask.

"Not really, sir. I've known most of these men since birth. I already know which to avoid, which are dangerous when drunk, and which are perfectly amiable."

"_Amiable_? Miss Susvere, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were plenty intoxicated yourself. In all my years, I have never heard a Death Eater been described as _amiable_." She cocked her head at this, considering his words.

"I suppose not, and I assure you that I am in my right mind, but I see them more as friends of the family. Many are kinder to me than my own family most of the time."

"You mean you don't see them as outright villainous?" He sneered at her.

"Of course not, Professor. There are no such thing as villains and heroes, only people who want different things. Sometimes how they achieve what they want is a bit unconventional or frowned upon by society, but then again, who ever said that society was inherently right about everything? The concepts of 'right' and 'wrong' are based completely on perception and what we have been conditioned to believe. Personally, I have never been hurt by them, so I have no reason to think poorly of them."

"You have an interesting perspective of the world, Miss Susvere." He said simply, and as the music changed, they changed partners and went their separate ways.

As the hour grew closer and closer to midnight, most of the guests started to leave, except for the Death Eaters. By the time it was five minutes till, only Death Eaters remained. It was at this time that her father spoke his first words to her all evening.

"We have an appointment to keep. We will be portkeying to our destination. When we arrive, you will not speak unless spoken to, and you will be respectful, courteous, and humble. Is that understood?"

"Yes father." She replied, a bit confused. She looked around to notice that they were the only ones left at the party, and upon realizing this she grew a bit nervous.

"Umm, father? Where has everyone gone?"

"They will be meeting us there."

With that, he blindfolded her, and before she could protest, he activated the portkey. When her head stopped spinning, she tried to remove the blindfold but was unable to. Her efforts were met with laughter, and she spun around, trying to pinpoint where the laughter was coming from exactly. She was freezing, and clearly outside, judging by the frigid wind hitting her face. She could tell that she was surrounded by people, probably in a circle of some sort, and she could hear the crackle of fire in torches. In short, she had no idea where she was, and she was scared.

"Well, well, well, Marcus. It seems you _have_ kept your word to me…" Said a voice that sounded very serpent-like. "And she's such a pretty little thing, too…Are you certain that she has been _primed_ for servitude?" He asked.

"Certainly, My Lord. She is highly intelligent, and has shown an aptitude for potions. I have allowed her access to texts of a decidedly dark nature, and she has read them earnestly. She is a bit headstrong, but nothing that cannot be remedied."

"I see. Can you speak, child?"

"I'm blindfolded, not gagged." She replied cheekily

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, so arrogant. Let's see if we can fix that…CRUCIO!" He bellowed, and she fell to the ground, overcome by pain. She gritted her teeth, unwilling to give him the pleasure of hearing her scream. It felt as if fire were coursing through her veins, and the white-hot pain seared through her limbs. She could feel herself shaking, convulsing on the ground. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized that the robes she was wearing would be ruined after that night, but the thought was lost among the blinding pain that invaded her mind. After what seemed like an eternity, it stopped. She was still shaking, but the pain had subsided somewhat.

"Marcus, remove her blindfold."

"Yes My Lord."

Suddenly, she could see. Her previous assumptions proved accurate, although she still had no idea where she was. She looked up and saw what seemed to be a throne, and sitting in it was the Minister of Magic himself.

"I want you to realize something, pet. Disrespect is not something that is tolerated in my presence." He walked towards her, and murmured a spell that caused her arms and legs to be tied to the ground. He then pulled out a thin, long dagger. "You see this? It's a cursed knife, one of my personal favorites. The cuts it makes heal themselves, but leave the pain. In effect, you can torture someone for hours and not have to worry about blood loss."

"Surely, My Lord, this isn't necessary…" Said a voice that she recognized. Avery was one of the nicer Death Eaters, and had always indulged her love for potionery.

"SILENCE, AVERY! Unless you would like to take her place?"

"No, My Lord."

"Then you will be silent." He said, turning back to Artemisia.

Another whispered spell and she was left wearing only the full-body slip she had worn under her clothes. She started shivering more violently, but still did not scream, even when the dagger made its first incision in her forearm. He made several more incisions on her arms, her wrists, her abdomen, her sides, her thighs, her ankles. She gritted her teeth against the pain, the only sounds that came from her were the sounds of her labored breathing and soft whimpers. Nevertheless, she could not control the tears that streamed down her face as she glared at her assailant defiantly.

He seemed to grow tired of this game and subjected her to another bout of crucio that lasted nearly ten minutes. After slicing her again with a non-cursed knife, he kicked her sharply in the stomach and once she was untied, she curled into a fetal position. By this time, she was mostly unconscious, but could still hear most of what was being said.

"Severus, term starts tomorrow, does it not?"

"Yes My Lord."

"Very well, take her with you, and Marcus, ensure that her belongings are sent to her as well."

"As you wish."

She felt herself being lifted and she instinctively shied away from the contact. Her professor held her strong and apparated her to the school. He took her to his quarters, where he set her down on his sofa as he went to get her healing potions.

"Miss Susvere, I need you to try to sit up so you don't choke."

She sat up weakly, and took the potions offered. She immediately felt better, but was still very weak and weary and most of all, confused.

"I…I don't understand. Wh-what just happened?"

"Shhh, we can talk once you've had some rest."

He covered her with some blankets and left the room. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, and she tried furiously to calm them, but her efforts were in vain. Why on earth had her father taken her to Minister Voldemort? Why had he been so cruel to her? Why had her professor _not_ been cruel to her? How was she going to explain her condition to anybody if her shaking and twitching continued for several days? Would she be able to keep this from Ulric? Should she even try?

She did not know for certain when sleep came to her, but she welcomed it. Later she realized that one of the potions she had drank was Dreamless Sleep, because otherwise her dreams would have been haunted by the events that took place that night. She was thankful for his consideration, and wondered if she was ever going to have to repeat that experience again.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: And the plot thickens! Next, perhaps we will get to see things from the Professor's point of view, and we will find out exactly what is hidden in those letters. How does her mother know Aspen Prenic? Will Artemisia tell Ulric or avoid questioning? So many questions, most of which will be answered in the next chapter ^-^ Please, pretty please read and review!**


	4. Shades of Grey

**Chapter 4**

It was dark, and comfortable. There were no images assailing her senses, no thoughts to distract her from the peace she felt. It was warm and the darkness was like a caress, an embrace, enveloping her in a sense of calm and security that she had not felt for hours. She knew, however, that the time was swiftly approaching when she could no longer stay in this paradise. She understood and was not upset about it, she needed to awaken. There was no other way that she would get answers to her questions. Once she had them, she felt that she'd be able to return to this place without regret. Hesitantly, she returned to the world of the conscious.

When she first realized she was awake, eyes still firmly shut against the light in the room, she became aware of several things. First, she was still dressed only in the full body slip that resembled a Renaissance chemise that she had worn under her dress for the party. Unless she was mistaken, it ought to be completely bloodstained, and rendered useless. Secondly, to say that she was sore would be to say that Minister Voldemort was only a bit unpleasant. Her muscles ached from having thrashed about when tortured, and her wrists and ankles were rubbed raw from where she had struggled against her bonds. The reset of her body hurt from where it had been cut. Although she was not bleeding anymore and most of them had closed, they still ached and she suspected that the actual muscle had been damaged.

She decided after a few minutes of taking in the pain that had immediately flooded her senses to actually open her eyes and maybe even try sitting up. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she experienced a moment of panic before she realized where she was. She was in Professor Snape's quarters, and he was sitting in an armchair, indirectly facing the couch she laid on, while reading the Daily Prophet. She struggled to sit up, but felt a sharp pain stab at her sides and right below her diaphragm which caused her to fall back and gasp in surprise.

Hearing her awaken, her professor lowered the newspaper and glanced over at her, one eyebrow raised in question. His face was softer than she thought she had ever seen it. Granted, it was still scowling slightly and held a sarcastic demeanor, but he did not look upon her unkindly.

"I suggest you rethink that course of action, Miss Susvere. You are not yet completely well."

"Yes, I think I gathered that. Thank you." She hissed, still fighting the pain and making another attempt to sit up.

"Watch your tone. Where exactly does it hurt?" He asked, not even bothering to ask so stupid a question as how she was doing, it was obvious she was not doing well."

"My sides and right below my lungs hurt the most, but my whole body is sore." She said with a final grunt of pain as she finally managed to sit upright. She also noticed that she was trembling, and not from cold, either.

"Yes, that makes sense. You received multiple lacerations to those areas, which were probably only exacerbated by the time you were held under the Cruciatus. Speaking of which, you can expect to continue experiencing tremors anywhere from severe to mild for the next few days."

"I see. When can I return to my classes? I'd prefer not to be getting behind on them."

"Foolish girl, there are more important things in this world than make up work. Nevertheless, it depends on your rate of recovery. It certainly won't be today, that's for damn sure." He said as he stood up and placed the paper on a coffee table. "Now, I assume that you are hungry, yes?"

"Yes, a bit."

"Very well, I shall send for a house elf. If you can walk, the door to the bathroom is to your immediate left, should you need it."

"Thank you, sir." She swung her legs off the couch tentatively, trying not to wince at the pain. She glanced over the back of the couch to gauge the distance she'd have to travel to the bathroom; it seemed like miles! Sighing, Artemisia tried standing, her knees wobbled dangerously as if unable to support her weight. She figured that worst case scenario, she'd crawl there. Indeed, that is what she ended up doing when her legs gave out halfway there. She groaned as she dragged herself over the hard cobblestone, wincing at the discomfort it induced.

"Miss Susvere, what in Merlin's name are you doing on the floor?" Asked the Potions Master as he came to stand over her, arms crossed and sneering.

Artemisia glanced up at him indignantly and responded, "Crawling to the bathroom, sir. I fell and I cannot get up."

He nodded and after a few moments asked, "Do you require assistance?" She grimaced, but spoke anyway, "Sir, I'd prefer to retain what's left of my pride, battered as it is. Thank you, but I'll manage."

He rolled his eyes with a muttered, "Foolish child." And slowly but surely, his student managed to make it to the bathroom.

Sometime later, while they were eating breakfast, Artemisia remembered all the questions she had planned to ask her professor the night before. She swallowed the food in her mouth and began, "Sir, can I ask you a few questions about last night?" He looked at her warily and reluctantly agreed. "Okay, so what exactly was that? Why did my father take me there? Why was the Minister so angry at me?"

Professor Snape sincerely considered not answering her questions. He felt that she was far too young to have to understand the evils that plagued their world. Perhaps he could keep her in the dark just a bit longer, preserve her innocence for a few more years. A tiny voice deep within him reminded him of the last time someone had tried to meddle in the lives of students, only to send that student marching to their death. Yes, it had been about twelve years since the so called "Savior of the Wizarding World" had died because some meddlesome old fool had decided to withhold vital information. Sighing, Snape knew what he would have to do. Whether he liked it or not, the girl would have to know.

"Miss Susvere, you must realize that I do not hold all the answers. I will, however, tell you what I know. It is customary in Death Eater families to present their sons for servitude when they turn fifteen. You, however, are neither male nor fifteen, which leads me to only one possible conclusion. You see, your father has been gradually falling out of favor with the Minister, and he may have hoped to regain standing by presenting you early. I assume that you have no brothers, otherwise they most likely would have taken your place. Furthermore, you are a very headstrong witch, which is likely the reason for the Minister's cruelty. He takes a certain…pride in hearing the screams of others. You, however, did not give him such pleasure." He stood, having already finished his breakfast.

She thought on his words, and they made sense to her. She was slowly becoming aware of the nightmare that most had to live in this strange, new world. She had been brought up to think that because she was a pureblood, no harm would ever come to her. Unfortunately, she was in nearly as much danger as anybody else. Perhaps more so since her life depended on her father's ability to please the Minister. One wrong move on his part, and she might be forced to pay the consequences. _Hah, not that Father would mind. He hates me_. She thought bitterly.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Professor Snape, "It is my understanding that all students, excluding you, are currently eating breakfast. If you wish to return to your dormitory to change clothes, now would be the best time to do so. You need not return here unless you are in need of medication. I suggest you use discretion when telling anybody of the events of last night."

She nodded, and thanked him for his hospitality. He merely nodded and transfigured a blanket into a black robe for her to use so that anybody who saw her would not notice her bloodstained clothing underneath. After thanking him once more, she made for the Common Room.

**~o~O~o~**

Sure enough, there was no one in the Common Room or Dormitory when she arrived, and she changed into her school robes with as much haste as she could muster, given that she was still in very much pain. Discarding her bloodstained in her trunk, vowing to deal with it later, she walked back into the Common Room with her book bag, only to find the one person she hoped she wouldn't have to deal with for several hours, at least.

"Hey, Artemisia! How was your holiday break? You never wrote, so I guess it wasn't all that great, was it? I'm sorry, it was a silly thing to ask…"

Artemisia sighed, believing it best to get the inevitable over with, "It's fine, Ulric. No, my Aunt was adamant about my not having contact with anybody outside of the family. So naturally, my holidays couldn't end fast enough."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," He said, not nearly as upset within himself as he had been moments before. "I know you probably don't want to talk about it, since you rarely want to talk about anything personal, but I saw you walking here from Professor Snape's quarters, and I don't know, just…are you, you know…are you sure you're okay?" His green eyes looked at her with such heartfelt concern that her usual lies, her usual retorts were caught in her throat.

Oh how she wished she could tell him! She wished she could break down crying and tell him in explicit detail _everything_ that had happened to her the night before! She wished that she could hug him and find solace in his friendship! But she could not. She was no Hufflepuff, and neither was he. She was a Slytherin, through and through, and while she sometimes wished it were not so, she could never truly allow herself to trust anybody. Surely he could use such information against her, if for no other reason than to mock her in the future.

And yet another part of her, a highly suppressed, concealed, and discouraged part of her told her to think rationally about it all. If she wanted to be able to trust anybody, they had to be able to trust her too, and keeping secrets was not the way to instill trust. One could go mad if they never had anybody to confide in, regardless of whether or not their confidant could relate to their situation. It was merely the ability to release ones burdens on a listening ear that could truly soothe an aching soul.

"Hey, it's okay if you don't want to tell me. I mean, it's obvious that there's something wrong, I've never seen that look in your eyes, or anybody's for that matter. I just want you to know that I'm here if you want to talk. Slytherin is a rough place to be if you expect sympathy, but it's a great place for secrets. We all have them, Artemisia, and while I may not understand whatever it is you're going through, I know what it's like to have secrets that are such a burden to you that it's hard to focus on anything else." He said, sounding far more mature than Artemisia had originally thought him to be. She was admittedly a bit taken aback by his words, and began to realize how little attention she had truly paid him the last few months.

"You know as well as I do that I cannot tell you everything, at least not yet. As much as I'd like to, this is neither the time nor place to do so. I'd honestly prefer to put some things into context for you before telling you everything, but to do that would mean opening up to someone after I've worked so hard to keep everybody out. It is of no fault of your own that I am so…guarded, as you once said, but I'm going…to need some time…"

He smiled reassuringly, "It's okay, Artemisia. Maybe it would make you feel more comfortable if we were to trade secrets or stories? One of yours for one of mine? Maybe that would help you feel less vulnerable?"

Artemisia thought on this for a moment, but agreed, "Yes, that might help some. I'd prefer if these…exchanges…could take place in the lab. It'd give me more peace of mind…"

"Yes, I know what you mean. Would you like to go there now?" He suggested hopefully.

Artemisia was nearly ready to agree, but the bell signaling the start of classes cut her off. They agreed to meet instead during lunch. As soon as Ulric left for Transfiguration, Artemisia remembered something that she had intended to go over immediately. _The letters._

She ran back to her trunk to retrieve them and decided to read them in the lab while she waited for lunch to come. Luckily, she met no one on her way there, and immediately settled at one of the desks. There were a total of eight letters, from both her mother and Aspen Prenic, and she immediately looked for the first one, chronologically. It read:

_**November 17, 1986**_

_Dearest Aspen, _

_It pains me to write that my parents have gained knowledge of us. They already have made motions to betroth me to a man I care not for. Certainly he has an exemplary pedigree, but his manner is horrendous. He pales in comparison to you. It is dreadful to know that I have no say in all of this, that my life is not my own to live. I do not know how much longer, nor how frequently I shall be able to write you, if at all. I wish you to know, however, that regardless of what happens, I shall always love you, and I will never forget you. I will never forget us._

_Yours always, Regina._

_**November 29, 1986**_

_Regina, My love, _

_I understand your position, and I fault you not for it. I am not a man of sympathy, as you well know, but I sincerely grieve for your loss of control over your own destiny. I, unfortunately, know precisely what it feels like to have to live a life that is not my own, and I would never wish such a fate on anyone. I cannot help but blame myself for your situation, feeling that if it weren't for me, you would not be forced into this loveless marriage. I hope that this finds you well. Know that my thoughts and my love are with you always._

_Aspen_

_**January 21 1987**_

_My dear, dear Aspen, _

_I am sorry that I have not written in so long; so much has happened, and none of it good. I have been married last week, and already my life has taken a turn for the worse. He is a horrid, horrid man! He insists that I bear children as soon as humanly possible. Unfortunately, when I went to visit a healer to discuss such prospects, I was told that there was something decidedly wrong with my uterus and that I'd be lucky to have a single child, but that having more than one would not be an option. _

_Aspen, I don't know what to do! I certainly don't want to bear his children, even if it would be only one. It practically seems like a waste of child, to use my one shot at childbirth on one so unworthy. On another note, however, I have discovered that he is planning on joining the Dark Lord. While I have heard little on the matter, I have learned that he has struck some sort of deal with the Dark Lord, which has me deeply concerned. Have you heard anything? I know that deals with him are not something to be taken lightly, and this has me scared._

_I must leave know, before he gets suspicious, but know that you are always in my heart. I long for a day where I can see you again. I shall always love you._

_Regina_

_**February 28, 1987**_

_My love, I am so sorry about everything that you have had to endure thus far. I agree that bearing his child would be a great waste. If I could steal you away, know that I'd do it in an instant. I hate knowing that there is nothing I can do to alleviate your discomfort. _

_I have recently started seeing your _charming_ husband at the revels. It seems that his so called "bargain" with the Dark Lord is the latest gossip. It also seems to be strictly confidential. If I learn anything, I will make sure to alert you at once. I fear that whatever it is, cannot be good._

_The revels are becoming increasingly difficult to cope with. The Dark Lord is amassing an army even greater than the one he had in the first war. He is continually searching for ways to dispose of young Mr. Potter. There have been whispers of him going after the Deathly Hallows, specifically the Elder Wand. I wonder at times if it has all been worth it. These wars have taken such a toll on the Wizarding World that one must wonder if there will be anyone left to enjoy the new world it is supposed to be creating once it is all over._

_Nevertheless, keep my heart safe, my love, so that I may have something to return to when my soul becomes so tarnished it is no longer but a shadow, a memory. _

_Aspen_

From that date, several letters seemed to be missing, for the next one jumped to December of 1998. Artemisia grabbed it and began reading in fervor.

_**December 22, 1988**_

_Dearest, _

_Another ball is being held as an official celebration of the anniversary our new Minister's inauguration into office. It is being held in March of this coming year at Avery's Estate. I know that you don't particularly like attending such frivolous events, but I must implore you to attend! About a week after the event, Marcus will be moving us to his ancestral home in the mountains of Nepal. Once there, I know that I will be denied contact with the rest of the world, partly since it would be cruel to make owls fly through such weather, but mostly because he is bent on making my life a living hell. This will truly be our last chance to see each other. I sincerely hope you can make an exception to your usual tradition and attend._

_Love always, Regina_

_**March 12, 1989**_

_Oh Regina, _

_I feel I must apologize for what happened last night. While I shall cherish the moment until the day I die, we must also acknowledge the fact that it was wrong, morally. You are a married woman, and I should not have taken advantage of you the way I did. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. You must know that I will always love you, regardless of where this cruel life takes us. I would be honored if you could find it in your heart to never forget me. _

_I love you, I always have, Aspen_

_**March 14, 1989**_

_My love, _

_I would never fault you for what happened. We were both heavily intoxicated; if anything, it was my fault for insisting that you come. Nevertheless, I must agree with you, the event, as marvelous as it was, cannot be repeated. I shall never forget you, and I wish you all the happiness that you so rightly deserve._

_Regina_

_**March 15, 1989**_

_Love, I must send you this while I am still capable and while you are still in the country. I am inclosing all of our correspondence, since my situation with the Dark Lord has gotten more precarious. I trust you to either keep them hidden, or destroyed altogether. I regret to inform you that I will be unable to write to you again. Please do not respond to this, it would be dangerous for me to receive any owls at this time. I swear that you will always hold a place in my heart, for I have never loved anyone else as I have loved you._

_Yours always, Aspen._

Artemisia put the letters down in mild shock. _Well, this certainly is another side to Mother I had never anticipated_, she thought. She really had no idea how to respond to any of what she had just learned. It rather made her feel a bit more sorry for the mother that she had always considered to overbearing and overprotective to the point of irritating. It was a bit eerie to know that although she had known her mother for ten years, she honestly had known very little about her.

Unfortunately, these letters brought to mind a few more, interesting questions. For one, there was the fact that he mother had undoubtedly had an affair with Mr. Prenic, and Artemisia really wasn't too sure how she felt about the whole thing. _March 12__th__ …why does March 12__th__ seem so significant?_ She wondered. She glanced back to the letter in question, and realized its significance. It had little to do with the day, but far more to do with the month and year. March of _1989_. That was a year before she was born. _Could it be? _She wondered.

_March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, December… _She counted in her head. _December!_ She realized with a start. It was exactly nine months before her birthday! Suddenly the world around her began to spin a little as so many pieces began to fall into place.

"Father must have found out, and that's why they were fighting that last time… THAT'S what she meant by "it was only one time!" How could I have not realized it before? How could I have been so stupid?" She yelled, jumping out of her chair.

"What do you mean 'how could you have been so stupid?'" Ulric asked, walking into the room, having only heard the last part of her exclamation.

"Oh. Uh…nothing, I just realized something about a, uh, potions mishap I had a while back. I just realized my error, that's all."

Ulric looked at her shrewdly, seeing straight through her poorly constructed lie. "I thought we could be honest with each other in this room. Or have you changed your mind?" He asked, a bit disappointed.

"No, I have not changed my mind. This is not a matter that I'm ready to discuss, though. Perhaps some time in the future, but I am barely coming to terms with it myself." She said, putting away the letters. Ulric, however, noticed them and realized that whatever her realization, must lie within the letters.

"Okay, if you insist. Do you still want to talk about your holidays?" He asked, hoping to get a response.

**~o~O~o~**

**In Another Part of the Castle**

Severus was tired of having to deal with idiots all day, and the ones that sat before him now were no exception. The amount of exploded cauldrons and potions gone wrong made him feel that perhaps serving the Dark Lord, excuse me, _Minister of Magic_, was the less dangerous job.

He sighed, he truly could not wait for the day to end. He'd had enough excitement and stress just in this last weekend to last him a lifetime. As he sat at his desk, waiting for the dunderheads to finish their daily failing, his thoughts wandered back to Sunday night.

***FLASHBACK***

Severus was getting dressed for the Masquerade Ball being hosted at the Susvere Manor. He knew it was little more than a diversion, a ploy, an excuse to get all the Death Eaters together for a bit of pre-revel entertainment. Personally, he felt the revels were a bloody waste of time. Yes, he liked power as much as anyone else, but he was far from bloodthirsty. That is not to say, however, that the sight of blood made him squeamish, he just did not appreciate it as much as his comrades seemed to. In short, he failed to see what was so magnificent about cutting people to shreds and mutilating bodies. He shuddered, it would be of no use to start thinking of such things before they even started. After all, it would most likely be a long night.

By the time he made it to the ball, most of the guests were there. Most were familiar to him, but the sight of Miss Susvere there threw him completely off-guard. This was not place for children, regardless of what she said. It intrigued him how comfortable she seemed to be around Death Eaters, and he admittedly felt a bit alarmed at her nonchalance. He suspected, however, that it was little more than a mask to safeguard the fear that hid in the deep recesses of her mind. He would not be so callous as to perform Legilimency on her without her consent, so he let the matter drop.

What astounded him the most was her assessment of the world. Specifically of the concept of 'heroes and villains'. He was loath to admit that he shared her opinions, believing that the world was not and never could be merely black and white. All there is are shades of grey. A person could not be wholly good nor wholly evil. They were, as she had said, merely different people wanting different things. Which led to another question altogether: _What do I want?_ He wondered.

His thoughts were interrupted by a change in song, and he took his leave from Miss Susvere, as she crossed the room to continue mingling. _Probably a learned habit_, he thought to himself, since no one could honestly claim to want to mingle with Death Eaters, not even Death Eaters themselves. He realized after a while that his arm was hurting dreadfully, and knew that the 'after party,' if you will, would be commencing soon. He apparated, and landed in some obscure forest, on the edge of a circle. The Minister had already taken his seat in his "throne" in the middle of the circle.

As time went on, and more people showed up, filling up the circle they were supposed to be creating, Severus began to wonder where the Muggles were. Normally McNair and Rookwood would bring about a half dozen Muggles for the Dark Lord's entertainment, but they had already arrived, Muggle-less. Severus stole a quick glance around the circle to see who was missing, and his stomach dropped as he realized who they were waiting on. _Marcus Susvere._

As he came to that realization, said Death Eater apparated into the middle of the circle, clutching no other than the young Miss Susvere. _Surely not!_ He thought_. She is much too young! Unless this is an initiation of sorts, but those never occur before the initiate's fifteenth birthday_. He reasoned.

He watched her torture for hours, unable to move, unable to protest. It was painful to watch a student undergo such treatment when he was powerless to stop it. He knew already that she would be excused from classes for several days at least. He had been subjected to enough bouts of Crucio to know that the aftereffects could last weeks.

Eventually, when she was released and he was instructed to take her back to the castle, he noticed a metallic glint coming from around her neck. Once he set her down on his sofa, he inspected the delicate gold chain that held the amulet that now completely held his attention. His eyes widened upon seeing it, but he needed confirmation nonetheless. He flipped it over, only to openly gasp at the letters _R&A_ intricately engraved on the back.

_It cannot be! Surely it cannot be the same one…_ He thought, trying to find a logical explanation for the pendant being in her possession. _No, no…there is no mistaking it. This is definitely Aspen's pendant._

***END FLASHBACK***

It never ceased to amaze Severus how the past seemed to have a way of never letting him go. It seemed he would always be bound by his past, regardless of how hard he tried to put it past him. A student's voice, however, interrupted his reverie.

"Pro-professor…? Umm, I-I think there's something wrong with my cauldron…" A timid third-year Hufflepuff girl announced. Severus looked in her direction, and sure enough, her cauldron was on the verge of exploding. Not even bothering to explain what she did wrong, he wordlessly vanished the contents of her cauldron, declaring that she had failed the assignment and that ten points would be taken from her house. Yes, he could be a right bastard when he wanted to be, but then again, it was practically expected of him by now. She was probably feeling she got off easy without a detention…

**~o~O~o~**

Artemisia agreed to discuss at least part of her holidays with a very eager Ulric. She was cautious not to give away very much information, but onely stick to a very basic outline of what happened.

"Well, the first week I spent locked up in my room, by choice, reading. Eventually my aunt said that I needed to come out and socialize with the family. Namely, her four horrible children. They aren't exactly what one might call _evil_, they are merely extremely spoiled and self-entitled. Afterwards, I spent the next few days wandering about the estate avoiding everybody. I took a fancy to a clearing near a tiny stream on the far reaches of the property. It was most relaxing, and no one managed to find me there. It was truly glorious.

"Anyway, a few days ago I had to attend a Masquerade Ball, which is nothing out of the ordinary, it was actually quite lovely, albeit garish. Apparently, my father also deemed it an appropriate time to present me to the Minister."

"My gosh! Were you scared?"

"No, why would I be?" She lied. She still was not sure that she could trust him completely.

"Well, I don't know. I mean, we _are_ talking about the same minister, aren't we?"

"Well yes, I don't know any other ones." She dismissed. She moved to one of the large tables in the middle of the room and started getting out potions supplies. She was experimenting with the potions in one of her dark texts again, and brewing helped calm her. Ulric, who always loved to watch her at work, came to sit on a chair next to her. As she was dicing rat spleens, he noticed that her hands were shaking ever so slightly. Worried that he'd be dismissed again, he asked tentatively, "Artemisia, did he use the Cruciatus on you?"

She whipped around to face him, glaring dangerously. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean." She said icily. He knew that it was now or never. "Artemisia, I know you're lying. Mom used to come home after revels shaking too. I know the signs."

She placed a stasis charm on the potion and set down her knife. She sighed and then turned to look at him suspiciously, "What do you want from me? A confession? That Artemisia is not nearly as strong as she wants people to think?" Her voice was laced with distrust, vulnerability, and resentment. "I do not care for it. I have always done things myself, and I will continue to do so." She picked up her bag and as her robes swung around her as she left, a sharp stab of pain in her side reminded her exactly what it was she was trying to forget about.

She fell to her knees, gasping in pain as she clutched at her sides. Silent tears of pain and frustration rolled down her cheeks. The room was completely silent, except for the sounds of the soft sobs that wracked her small frame.

Ulric did not know what to do for her, and he was actually quite concerned that something might be very, very wrong. He went to her side, but as he moved to touch her, she flinched away from him. Ignoring her pain as she had been doing all day, she leapt to her feet and ran out the door, not once looking back.

She ran through the corridors, her eyes blurry and unfocused due to the tears, and collided headfirst with a solid black mass.

"Miss Susvere, watch where you're going." Sneered Professor Snape. She kept her head down, not wanting to make eye contact and reveal her distressed state. "Sorry Professor." She mumbled, trying to scoot past him, but he would not allow it.

"Miss Susvere, look at me."

"With all due respect sir, I'd really rather not."

"Oh? And why is that."

_Because I've been crying and I don't want you to see me. _"Uh…" She was at a bit of a loss for words. She didn't want to explain her real reasons, nor could she come up with a better solution. She was trapped.

He reached down and lifted her chin, and she glared at him defiantly. "You have been crying."

"Yes."

"Are you in pain?"

"You could say that."

"Emotional or physical, Miss Susvere?"

"Both."

"I see. Come."

He led her back to his office and then went to retrieve more medications for her. She sat in a chair facing his desk, trying to hide behind her curtains of hair, as if no one could see beyond them. She didn't exactly fancy talking to her professor much more than she did talking to Ulric. After all, her professor _was_ a Death Eater.

"I am not one for heartfelt, emotional discussions over tea, but I can give you this." He said, and placed another pain potion in front of her. She drank it down eagerly, wincing at the taste.

"Thank you, sir." She whispered, and he merely nodded in her direction. She got up and left, heading for her dorm. All she wanted was sleep, all-consuming sleep that would help her avoid Ulric as much as possible.

When she was finally lying in her bed, she remembered that she had turned twelve right before the holidays, but had not remembered. It had been so long since she had actually _celebrated_ a birthday, that now they just came and went without notice.

"You know, Alan" She whispered to her cat, "I think that tomorrow, we'll go down to the lake and have a mini-birthday celebration. Just you and me. What do you think?" Alan mewed sleepily. "You're right, we should go to sleep…"

**~o~O~o~**

The next day, true to her word, Artemisia took Alan to the lake, where they sat together peacefully under a tree. He was curled up in her lap and she petted him absentmindedly as she gazed over the lake, enjoying her solitude. It was wonderfully peaceful, and the morning air was crisp as it caressed Artemisia's face. She felt that she could spend an eternity out there, thoroughly unconcerned with the rest of the world, just her and her cat, and-

"Artemisia!" Yelled a voice, jolting her out of her momentary peace. "Thank goodness I've found you! I've been looking for you…" Exclaimed Ulric, as he dropped to the ground next to her. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday…I just, I was worried about you. I really wish you'd trust me enough to confide in me."

"I suppose I ought to apologize too. I'm not accustomed to kindness, only plots and ulterior motives." Artemisia sighed.

"It's okay, I understand. My offer still stands though, that we could trade secrets. I could go first, if you'd like."

"Yes. I think I'd like that."

"Okay, I have an older brother and a younger sister, and my mother is a Death Eater. She wants me to join when I'm done with school. Oh, and my brother disappeared three years ago when she tried to take him before the Minister." He said, "How's that?"

"Yes, that's good. Do _you_ want to join?"

"I don't know, I've never really given it much thought. I just always kind of assumed I didn't have a choice. What would you do if I said that yes, I wanted to join?"

"I don't know. What could I do? It's your choice, and if it's what you want or if it helps you achieve something you want, then go for it."

"So you wouldn't be scared?"

"Why would I be? Most of my family are Death Eaters."

"True, but I mean, they tortured you! And don't even try to deny it, I can tell that they did."

"I know, I know. It's a bit more complicated than that, Ulric. The Death Eaters didn't torture me, it was only the Minister. I harbor no resentment towards that Death Eaters, I've known many since I was born. To me, they aren't scary or bad people, they have only made choices that much of society deems wrong."

"So then, do you think the Minister is scary?"

"Yes and no. It scares me how commonplace torture and murder are for him, but in the end, he is a person too, albeit barely. He has a set of goals that he has decided to achieve. No one is completely good nor evil. It's all just shades of grey."

"Shades of grey?"

"Yes."

"I see. That's an interesting perspective." Ulric said thoughtfully. "It's your turn, by the way."

"Do I have to?"

"Yes! That's the whole point!"

"I'm sorry, Ulric, I told you that I'm not used to this sort of thing!" She took a deep breath, hoping that she was not misplacing her trust. "I just realized that the man I have for twelve years thought to be my father, is not really my father."

"Really, I probably could have told you that." He said with a grin, "But do go on, since I feel that this is not the end of your story…?"

"Not really, no. I think…I think my real father is Aspen Prenic." She declared.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Yay! Another chapter done!**

**PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW AND I'LL LOVE YOU FOREVER!**

**I suppose it might have been cruel to leave it right there, but if I hadn't, then it would have been almost another week before I could update. On another note, I seem to be falling ill. I feel like crap =/ In case the next chapter is a bit late, that's why (:**


	5. Classmates

**A/N: I'm just going to say this now; I sincerely apologize for the delay in this chapter. I really meant for it to be up a long time ago, but I fell ill, and then it was finals week, and I had to study quite hard because I intend on getting an A in that class :D But anyway, it's here, and I hope you enjoy it! **

**PLEASE REVIEW!**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

Artemisia was dutifully perusing library books, researching her supposed father. So far, she had been able to gather his publisher's information, and had owled them to ask for his information. They had not yet responded. Right now, she was desperately searching through old school yearbooks to try and find a picture of him.

There were hundreds of year's worth of yearbooks and Artemisia had absolutely no idea where to even begin. Even in academic journals and textbooks, there was no personal information about him, only speaking of his research and nothing more. It was terribly frustrating.

She rather wished that she had been able to retain the excitement she had felt only hours ago by the lake when she had told Ulric about her suspicions. He had been quite excited...

***FLASHBACK***

"Really? As in, the author?"

"Well, I don't know any other Aspen Prenics, do you?"

"Well, no..." He had paused in thought for a minute, "So then, what are you going to do?"

"I have no idea. I was thinking somewhere along the lines of contacting him, meeting him, etc. But I doubt he knows who I am, let alone whether he'd be willing to talk to me. He probably doesn't even know I exist."

"True...but you never know. How about you try and get background information first and maybe send him an owl about his research or something, and then eventually maybe get to the whole 'you're my father' discussion."

"Well, it's not like I'm just going to out and say it. That would be far too Gryffindor for my liking."

"Yeah, that's true. It might freak him out and make him not want to talk to you..."

"Well yes, there is that..."

***END FLASHBACK***

After that conversation, they had decided to research everything they could about him before contacting him. Unfortunately, while there were hundreds of books about his research, none of them contained any personal details, not even a biography. Artemisia was starting to get desperate.

"Ugh! What the hell!" Artemisia exclaimed, casting away another book that had failed to produce any results.

"Language, Miss Susvere." Spoke her Potions Professor who stepped out from behind a bookcase. He walked over to the table at which she was sitting, and looked at the massive amount of books piled upon it. Raising a singular eyebrow, he asked, "Have you left any on the shelf, Miss Susvere?" He sneered.

Sneering right back, Artemisia replied, "Of course. Besides, since these were wholly unsatisfactory, they will be returning to their rightful place in a few minutes."

"Surely you could have found whatever it is you are looking for amongst the mountains of books on the table? After all, Aspen Prenic is nothing if not thorough in his research." He said, glancing at the titles of a few.

"No, I agree. His research is exemplary, but seems to lack biographical information."

"And why, pray tell, do you need his biography? I was not aware that he is covered in the curriculum."

"He isn't. It's more of a personal research project."

Professor Snape looked at her searchingly, narrowing his eyes marginally. "Miss Susvere, why do you need his biography?"

"I...um..." Artemisia wasn't sure she should tell him or not. Sure, he seemed trustworthy enough, but she could not tell whether or not he would laugh at her or not. She did not like looking foolish, and she was fairly certain that's what he would make her feel. Unfortunately, if she did not tell him, he would probably keep prying, and that she did not want. "Well, I kind of wanted to know more about him before I owl him."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Professor Snape asked, "And why exactly, would you owl Aspen Prenic?"

"Umm, well you see, that's the funny part..."

"I fail to see the humor in this situation. I suggest you finish your explanation before I feel it necessary to expedite it with point deductions."

Not intimidated by his threats, Artemisia glared at him, but continued nonetheless. "I have reason to believe that he might be...he might be my..." She paused uncertainly, and continued when he scowled at her, "my father." She expected him to sneer, or scowl, or make some sarcastic comment that would make her feel thoroughly foolish. He did none of these.

He raised his other eyebrow to join the first and asked, "Now what could possibly lead you to believe that?"

"Well, during the holidays, I found letters between him and my mother, and they seemed quite in love. There was also a couple letters that implied something improper had occurred between them, given that she was married at the time."

"Very well, but what makes you feel that Marcus Susvere is not your father?"

"Professor, please. I look nothing like him. Now that I've noticed, there is no possible way that we are related."

"I see."

"Yes. Wait, aren't you a fan of his research? Do you know anything about him?"

"Miss Susvere, if you ever expect to learn anything, you need to learn to do your own research."

"But that's what I'm doing! Or at least trying to..." She protested.

"There will always be answers for those who seek them relentlessly." He said, and turned on his heel as he left.

_Well that was a bit more cryptic than truly necessary._ She thought, _He could have just told me to look harder._

Deciding that she would return the next day, Artemisia left the library for dinner. She met up with Ulric and described her conversation with the professor and her obvious failure to find anything significant.

"Did you check the yearbooks?" Ulric asked

"Yes, there was nothing there. Besides, I wouldn't even know what year to be looking in…"

"Okay, well what did you say the year was on the letters he wrote?"

"1986! Which means that anything after that can definitely be ruled out."

"Exactly. Now, when was your mother married? And how old was she?"

"She was twenty-two when she married in 1987…which means she was born in…1965."

"Okay, so we could start by checking the yearbooks in the years that your mother went to Hogwarts. She did go to Hogwarts, right?"

"Yes, it's my father's family who believes in private tutors."

"Why do you still call him your father? He's clearly not related to you…"

"Think about it for a minute, Marcus is a Death Eater. That means that I have a certain level of protection as long as that remains my status. The moment that changes, my future becomes as uncertain as a Muggle-born's. Illegitimate children are not looked upon kindly in this world, Ulric. Not to mention, this could cause people to go after Aspen and kill him before I have the chance to meet him, and that would rather defeat the purpose, no?"

"Well, when you put it that way…" Ulric conceded sheepishly. "So anyway, what is our next course of action?"

"Well, I guess the yearbooks are probably our best bet, now that we have a basic idea of the time period. As it is, it's going to take forever. Besides, that's assuming that he went to Hogwarts. He could have had a tutor as well…"

"True, but let's not get ahead of ourselves now. We'll deal with that problem if it arises, and not before. So when are you returning to classes?" He said, filling his mouth with a dinner roll. Artemisia was in no way fond of his eating habits, but it was endearing in a way. It spoke volumes to his personality, thoroughly unconcerned by society's expectations and regulations. It was a refreshing change from the uptight, proper family she came from.

"I should be returning tomorrow, if I'm capable of holding a quill. That's what Professor Snape said when I asked him."

"Oh yes, I remember…how are your…um, tremors?"

"Annoying, frustrating, infuriating, inconvenient, other words that could mean unpleasant. It isn't as bad as it used to be. I'm holding a fork, aren't I?"

"Well yes, but your hand is still shaking. What if you make a conscious effort to control the shaking?" He asked, clearly curious.

"What do you _think_ I'm doing?" She hissed, "If I _don't _try to suppress it, it's much worse." She put her fork down and held her hand suspended in midair, palm down. "Look." She whispered, and almost immediately, her hand was shaking almost double what it had been before when she was eating. It was so bad, that it seemed to vibrate as if someone was shaking it nearly a centimeter in each direction.

"Blimey! You weren't kidding! Merlin, that's not good…" He exclaimed, but was quickly subdued by the look Artemisia gave him when people started looking in their direction.

"A bit of discretion would not go amiss right now, thank you." She muttered, "There are some things I would prefer to keep to myself."

"Sorry…" He said sincerely, "What about your side? Has that healed yet?"

"Kind of, the wound itself is no longer open, but the tissue and the muscle is sore beyond belief. It is, however, manageable." Ulric nodded upon hearing this, and they returned to their meals. He engaged some of their housemates in conversation, while Artemisia kept a covert vigil on the Great Hall. There seemed to be nothing untoward occurring, but it seemed that it had been too long since her last encounter with the Quarrelsome Quartet, who last engaged her before the winter holidays. She was rather hoping that this trend could continue for the rest of the year, deep in her heart, however, she knew it was not to be.

At the end of dinner, she walked down to the dungeons with Ulric, who insisted on making sure she was capable of walking, which had sparked indignation from Artemisia. She had scowled and told him that she did not need his pity, and she was more than capable of making it herself. He only smirked and said that it was purely coincidence because he happened to need to go the dormitory as well. She was no fool, and so she reluctantly let him walk her. For one of such poor table manners, he was a perfect gentleman otherwise.

It was not long before she became truly grateful he had stayed. The Quarrelsome Quartet rounded the corner in front of them, and Artemisia automatically tensed at Ulric's side. He sensed her apprehension and scowled at the Gryffindors. Sarah advanced towards them, and they all seemed quite pleased to have caught _two_ snakes on their prowl.

"Get lost Miller." Ulric said, addressing Sarah, who merely sneered. Michael, however, turned to him, "Pierce. I suggest _you_ get lost. Our business isn't with you, it's with our darling little viper, here."

Ulric snickered, "I think not, Turner. The odds would hardly be fair, now would they? You, Miller, Collins and Holmes? Four to one is quite cowardly, for one who preaches such Gryffindor _courage_." He said, nodding his head in the directions of Derrick and John, respectively.

Artemisia knew that this was going to end up going downhill rather quickly, and something was going to have to be done, and soon. She glanced at Derrick Collins and John Holmes, who both seemed rather disinterested in the entire confrontation and were lingering in the background. She would have to find a way to use that to her advantage.

"I find that I have better things to do than deal with your Gryffindor stupidity, so I'm afraid we'll have to reschedule this for some other time, Turner." She said, taking a step forward. In an instant two wands were out, followed by those of the Slytherins. Collins and Holmes were the last to draw, barely having caught on.

"I think not, Susvere." Sneered Sarah Miller, who had been the first to draw her wand. "Why would a lion release its catch after it has already been caught?"

"I would hardly call us _caught_. More like, encountered." Artemisia shot back. She decided to just keep on going and hoped Ulric would take the hint and follow.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Yelled Sarah. Artemisia dodged the spell easily, and casting one of her own.

"_Impedimenta_!" That one came from Ulric, and hit Michael square in the chest. He clearly had not been expecting it.

"_Petrificus_ _Totalus_!" Shouted Sarah, which hit Ulric and caused him to fall to the floor, thoroughly petrified.

"_Incarcerous_!" Artemisia watched as ropes flew from her wand, wrapping themselves around Sarah and effectively immobilizing her. She then fired another at Michael, muttering _Furnunculus_, and he was immediately covered in boils.

She then turned to the other two, Derrick and John, and raised an eyebrow in clear challenge. Not to be outdone, they promptly returned fire, and she spent the next few minutes dodging curses and hexes. She had found temporary shelter in the doorway of one of the classrooms, and was trying desperately to catch her breath. She fired two _Stupefy's_ in rapid succession, but neither seemed to hit their mark. Her body was fatigued from her injuries and the physical exertion required for the duel. _More like ambush_, she thought angrily.

In a last desperate attempt, she crept from the safety of the doorframe and shouted _Slugulus Eructo _at both of them, and then smirked triumphantly when they both doubled over, and began vomiting large green slugs.

"_Ennervate_" she whispered, pointing her wand at Ulric, who opened his eyes and looked at her, seemingly quite puzzled. He jumped to his feet, brandishing his wand and ready to resume battle until he saw what had become of their assailants.

"Merlin, Artemisia! What did you do?" He asked, awed.

"It's called magic, and I suggest we make ourselves scarce before a teacher decided to walk this way and discover our latest misadventure." She said, hastily leading him back to their common room, knowing that it wouldn't be long before someone showed up. Most likely the Slytherins would be blamed, if history was anything to go by.

"But aren't you worried that they'll tell someone?"

"Well yes, that's why we're going to the common room to construct an alibi. After all, Slytherins stick together. It won't be hard to convince them to lie for us if it means revenge on the Gryffindors."

"Ah yes, quite right. Well, I suppose we ought to hurry then."

"That would be wise, yes." She agreed.

**~o~O~o~**

As predicted, their housemates were more than happy to cover for them, and when Professor Snape walked in to ask where they had been after dinner, everyone agreed that they had been studying in the common room. He had merely nodded and walked away, leaving everyone breathing a sigh of relief. Artemisia knew better than to think that he wasn't going to keep investigating, but she also knew that as a Slytherin himself, he was wont to protect his own when he could.

The next few weeks passed without incidence, and both Slytherins were grateful for it. Artemisia, in particular, had not heard anything from her family since the Winter Holidays, and now that they were in the middle of February, she was beginning to hope that they had forgotten about her. The injuries that she had sustained that night had healed, and the tremors she had had stopped. Her psyche, however, had not been the same since that night. She was a bit more despondent, and tended to shy away from human contact as much as possible. She tended to avoid socialization with most people, not that she had been particularly fond of many people to begin with, but now it seemed as if she was actively avoiding other people. The only exception was Ulric.

It was really more because of what he already knew or managed to guess. Had he remained in the dark about the more uncomfortable aspects of her life, she would not have been the one to take the initiative to confide in him. However, since he already knew too much in her opinion, it was paramount to keep him close where she could keep an eye on him. At least, that's what she told herself. It was dangerous to think anything else, to even consider that she might be considering him as more than just a liability. So she did the next best thing, and refused to think about it at all.

He had taken to walking her to classes too, feeling that it was his duty to make sure she got there in one piece. Of course, this presented a problem when she had a class in the lower levels of the castle, and he had one higher up. Needless to say, she became far more punctual, whereas he was often several minutes late to his classes, even when he ran. Artemisia appreciated the effort, even though she insisted that it wasn't necessary.

All in all, time was passing rather quickly, and Artemisia was aware that the time when she'd have to return to home was approaching quickly. She was not pleased, clearly, but did nothing to show it. Ulric knew, of course, but didn't bother to try and talk to her about it. She would have just changed the subject anyway.

The letter she had sent to Aspen's publishers had not produced any leads either. They claimed that they had never had contact with him, and knew nothing of his address or the like. They had also included an admonishment that even if they did know something, they had a strict confidentiality policy that would not be broken to satisfy a mere girl's curiosity. Once again, she had come to a dead end. It was a bit depressing to realize that in the end she might not have anything to show for her efforts. So, she tried not to dwell on such an outcome for too long, it would not help her in the least.

Meanwhile, in another part of the castle, Professor Snape was hard at thought. He was perplexed about the fact that Artemisia had Aspen's pendant, and he was dead curious to find out how she got it in the first place. There was also the girl's unnatural interest with the man's life. Why she wanted his biography was beyond him, but he knew that she would not tell him willingly, and it was hardly worth punishing her for. Nevertheless, he vowed to get to the bottom of it, one way or another.

**~o~O~o~**

Ulric and Artemisia began their search for Aspen Prenic as soon as the opportunity presented itself. They decided it would be most wise to work backwards, so they started with the later years. It was disconcerting, really, to see so many of the people they knew as adults, as teenagers. A bit disturbing, really. Oddly enough, despite how they carried themselves now, they seemed just as insecure as any other teen. They passed by yearbooks that contained a very young Severus Snape, and Artemisia suppressed a giggle upon seeing his picture. He had clearly been as unpopular in his youth as he was now, and he had obviously developed his signature sneer long before his teaching career began.

Ulric was equally amused, and they both spent some time looking at the pictures of Hogwarts students engaging in average day-to-day activities. Without fail, any picture with their dour professor sported him glaring at the camera in obvious disdain. They got rather sidetracked and by the time they remembered what they were supposed to be researching, it was already time for dinner. Oh well, they would be back the next day.

**~o~O~o~**

"Miss Susvere, detention this Friday at eight. Do not be late. Oh, and don't forget to clean your mess." He said venomously.

Artemisia sighed, it was hardly her first detention, but it was an admittedly rare occurrence for Professor Snape to give members of his own house detention. _Then again,_ she thought, _most members of my house don't blow up cauldrons._ The cauldron incident, however, was not her fault. She could have sworn that one of the Gryffindors added an extra ingredient to her potion. It was a substitution that was easy to remedy…if you caught it in time. It was notoriously fast acting, and she had obviously not moved fast enough, and now had to serve detention.

And clean up her mess.

**FRIDAY**

Artemisia knocked on the door to the Potion's classroom, and was beckoned by a rough 'enter'. She did as she was told, and noted the cauldron sitting on a desk, as well as the ingredients sitting next to it. She made no comment, however, and waited to be addressed.

"Miss Susvere, since you received a zero for the assignment on Wednesday, you will be repeating the assignment right now. You will find all you will need on that desk. You have a half hour, get started."

She was about to protest that the potion needed at least an hour to complete, but decided that it probably wouldn't help her any. So she began to work diligently, and hoped that she would meet the half-hour time limit set. Perhaps he expected her to modify the potion in some way to facilitate faster brewing? It was possible…but what to use? The most time consuming portion was when the potion had to be cooled to room temperature before adding the next ingredient. Of course, magic could not be used, but perhaps something else could be…

When the time came, Artemisia was feeling a bit excited to try her idea. It was quite simple really. Since she couldn't use magic directly, there was nothing stopping her from using something that had had magic used on it. So, she used her wand to conjure some water, which she put in a bowl. She then magically froze it, and then added it to the potion. Of course, it worked exactly as she intended, and she managed to finish the potion in about twenty-seven minutes. She had it decanted and placed on his desk within the next couple of minutes. She now stood before him, with a very smug smirk gracing her features.

"Interesting, Miss Susvere." Was all he said in regards to her creation of the potion. "Now, I have something I would like to speak with you about. Have a seat." She did, and looked at him with curiosity.

"Where did you get the pendant that hangs about your neck?" _Best to get straight to the point_, He thought.

She seemed a bit surprised, but answered, "From my mother. It was hers. The amethysts represent her, since it's her birthstone, and the blue topaz in the middle represents me. I'm not sure who the garnets are, but I'm fairly sure it's supposed to be my father, Aspen."

"I see. You still feel that he is your father?"

"Yes sir. It seems rather obvious to me, considering the letters, and my appearance."

"Has your search managed to produce any results?"

"No, but Ulric and I have been searching through the old school yearbooks for a picture of him. So far we haven't found him, but we probably just haven't found the right year. The last time we looked, we ended up getting a bit…distracted." She admitted, trying to look anywhere but his eyes.

He raised an eyebrow in silent question, but she ignored it, and he decided it probably wasn't all that important to pursue anyway. "You won't find him in a yearbook, Miss Susvere."

"Why is that, sir?" She asked curiously

"Because he always made himself sick on picture day. He detested the idea, but was the only one of us who would purposely cause himself harm just to avoid it. He was decidedly foolish when he tried to be."

Artemisia's eyes widened, and then she looked at him suspiciously. "How is it that you know that, Professor?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose as if the very thought of admitting what he was about to gave him a migraine. "Because we were classmates, Miss Susvere."

* * *

><p><strong>DON'T FORGET TO REVIEW! :D<strong>


	6. One Problem Solved

**Disclaimer: Not mine, wish it was, but it's not, etc.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

"I'm sorry Professor, I must have heard you wrong. I thought you just said Aspen Prenic was your classmate."

"Your hearing is fine Miss Susvere."

Artemisia looked at him, awed. After all, it wasn't everyday that your Professor admitted to knowing a celebrity.

"If you don't mind me asking, Professor, were you two close?"

"I suppose it would depend on your definition of 'close', Miss Susvere." He said with a very pronounced sneer.

"Friends, acquaintances, comrades…?"

"We were…well acquainted. We were both Slytherin students in the same year. Our…social groups…merged from time to time."

"What was he like, Professor?" She asked eagerly, but visibly deflated when she saw the expression on his face. "Professor, this is my father we're talking about and you're the only person I know who knew him. You must understand how much I crave the knowledge you possess."

"Yes Miss Susvere, I do understand. He was…well liked, but rather introverted. He was consumed in books, which is how we came to be acquaintances. We met in the library, you see. Our meetings in later years began to include a Slytherin girl several years younger than us who would eventually become your mother, as well as your favorite Death Eater, Avery."

"I didn't know Avery knew my father…"

"It is most likely that he had no idea that Aspen was your father. Not that it would have made any difference, really. The outcome would probably have been the same regardless…"

"What do you mean, Professor?" Artemisia asked, until her brain began formulating a scenario to fit his words. "…same outcome…Professor? Where is my father?" She asked suddenly."Last I heard he was…somewhere outside of Manchester."

Snape began, "Miss Susvere, you must realize that he probably did not even know that he had a child…he may not have even been around by the time you were born…"

Artemisia's eyes grew wider and slightly misty as she realized what her professor was dancing around tactfully. "He's dead, isn't he?"

"Yes Miss Susvere, he is."

She sighed, but honestly hadn't expected very much anyway. "How long ago?"

"A few months after you were born."

"How?"

"He was killed by a member of the Order of the Phoenix before their society was no more. It was sadly, not a swift death…"

Her eyes fell to the floor in silent respect to the man she would never know. "Was he tortured, then?"

"Miss Susvere, I hardly think you need to know that. It is of no consequence now

"Professor, I know nothing of him as it is, won't you just humor me?"

"Very well, but please try to refrain from Gryffindorish emotional displays." He warned. "Yes, he was tortured. It was not condoned by their leader, Albus Dumbledore, but rather went on behind his back. Two members of the order took turns until someone walked in on them and finally put him out of his misery."

"It's funny, isn't it, Professor?" She said, pensively, "The Order was supposedly 'on the side of the light', and yet, they were no better than the Death Eaters they claimed to hate. Perhaps even worse because they felt that they were doing the world a favor…"

"Yes, Miss Susvere. If one were to look back, it could almost be taken as a continuation of house rivalries. Most of the Death Eaters are Slytherin, while the majority of the Order consisted of Gryffindors."

"And who were they? Do you know?"

"Who were who?"

"The ones responsible for Aspen's death."

"I do know."

"Will you tell me?"

"I'd prefer not to. I don't see how that would help you any."

"Please, Professor?"

"Fine. But just so you know, they're already dead, so there's no need to launch a vendetta against them for revenge." He told her gravely. "The two who tortured him was a man named Ronald Weasley and his sister, Ginevra. Their companion, a Miss Hermione Granger, was the one who actually killed him. Doing him a service, in reality."

"I see. And you said that they were all dead?"

"Yes."

Did any of them ever have children?" She asked innocently.

"Miss Susvere…" He said warningly, "No they did not. You are hereby _forbidden_ to try and seek revenge on any existing relatives of theirs if you are capable of finding them. I assure you, the Death Eaters did a very _thorough_ job." He sneered.

"Even if I was going to, which I'm _not_, what would the big deal be?"

"The _big deal_ is that you would get yourself killed. Have you any idea how much paperwork is required to be filled out if in the event of a student death? Far too much to be worth it. I would advise you to wait at least until you have finished your seventh year."

"Very well, Professor. For your sake, I shall not seek any of their relatives out."

"Swear on it, Miss Susvere."

"I swear not to seek revenge on those responsible for Aspen Prenic's death prior to the completion of my seventh year of schooling." She felt the magic of the binding vow swirl around her, and she wondered if she hadn't made a mistake…

**~o~O~o~**

"Hey, so how was detention with Snape?" Ulric asked her the next day at breakfast. He was diligently pursuing the platter of sausages that was being passed around the table.

"It went well. He let me redo the potion, and then we had a bit of a talk." Replied Artemisia, who generally preferred a lighter breakfast consisting of toast and pumpkin juice.

"Hmph, how unfair. _My _detentions always involve cauldron-cleaning or something equally disgusting." He said, feigning resentment.

Artemisia spent the rest of breakfast catching him up on the conversation she had had with the Professor, and by the time she was done, he was looking at her with wide eyes. He was amazed that the answer they had been looking for was right under their nose the whole time. Granted, it was unfortunate that Aspen was dead, but it was still exciting to know of at least one person who knew him and was still alive.

"Well at least he told you. He could have just waited around for you to figure it out yourself." Ulric told her, as they were walking to class."This is true. I'm not mad about it, not even sad. If anything I'm disappointed that I won't get to meet him."

"That's understandable, but how can you not be sad? I mean, you just found out your father is dead!"

"Ulric, I never knew my father. I never had the opportunity to get close to him, so it's not like I can miss him. Like I said, I am disappointed, but nothing more."

"But-"

"Ulric, that's enough. I've already told you my feelings on the matter, and I'd appreciate you dropping the subject." She said, growing annoyed. Sometimes, she felt that Ulric should have been sorted into Gryffindor, _The house of the subtle_, she thought sarcastically.

**~o~O~o~**

Artemisia was once again helping Ulric study for tests. This time however it was for their finals. Time had passed so quickly after the holidays, and they were consumed in their studies, determined to achieve excellence. Or at least, Artemisia was. She would accept no less than perfect marks. Ulric, on the other hand, was content with 'Exceeds Expectations', which was a fact that drove Artemisia to near insanity at times. He was such a smart person, and yet, he seemed completely disinterested in achieving his highest potential. It was a shame, really.

Nevertheless, they were sitting cross-legged in their common room, surrounded by books and notes, studying furiously. It was true that they were both very well prepared for their potions final, their extra lab time attested to that fact, but some subjects, like History of Magic, was terribly dull and not easily mastered. It was not until nearly ten at night that Ulric stretched he arms out as he yawned loudly, breaking the silence that had existed before. His eyes were slightly watery and tired from all the reading, and he looked at Artemisia wearily. When she felt his eyes, she looked up, questioningly. When he didn't speak immediately, she raised an eyebrow at him

"Hey, Artemisia…do you know what you'll be doing over the summer?"

She looked at him thoughtfully, "No, I hadn't really thought about it much. I'll probably be with my aunt for most of it. If Father decides to host another party, which he probably will, I will most likely be in attendance."

Ulric nodded slowly, "Yeah, I'm sorry to hear that. My mom is normally really busy attending the revels, so we don't get to see her much. Does she ever go to your father's parties?"

"Her last name is Pierce, right?" She asked, and Ulric nodded.

"Yes, I think I've seen her there a couple of times."

"That's great! Maybe I can convince her to take me to the next one, then we can see each other!" He suggested excitedly.

"Yes, yes I think that might work. It would be good to see someone who I'm not related to." She agreed, "However, I'm tired, so let's continue this conversation tomorrow, yes? I am going to bed now, good night."

"Good night, I think I'll follow suit."

**~o~O~o~**

Artemisia was waiting eagerly at the breakfast table to receive her grades. The OWL and NEWT students had to wait until the summer to get theirs because the Ministry conducted their exams. Everyone else, however, got their grades right before leaving, since those exams were conducted by the individual teachers.

She was practically bouncing up out of her seat in anticipation, but somehow managed to keep her composure. It was frustrating to know that she was so far towards the end of the alphabet. She could see Professor Snape at the far end of the table, probably only in the D's or maybe G's. They had been instructed to sit in alphabetical order to make things faster, so she could see Ulric several people in front of her. Sighing impatiently, she began to count the floating candles in the ceiling. She had gotten all the way to fifty-seven, when Professor Snape appeared in front of her and handed her a piece of folded parchment. His lips twitched slightly, as if fighting a smile. He nodded towards her, and moved to the next student. Naturally, she was very eager to find our if all her hard work paid off, so she removed the seal hastily, and scanned through the words with equal vigor.

Astronomy- Outstanding

Charms- Outstanding

DADA- Outstanding

Herbology- Outstanding

History of Magic- Exceeds Expectations

Potions- Outstanding

Transfiguration- Outstanding

Yes, she was slightly disappointed, but judging by the faces the other houses were making, she figured she may have actually gotten some of, if not _the_ highest scores. One look at Ulric told her that he was pleased with the marks he had gotten; he was grinning from ear to ear as his eyes were fixed to the sheet of parchment in front of him.

"What did you get, Ulric?" She asked him as students started moving around and some exited the Great Hall.

"Outstanding in DADA, Potions, Transfiguration, and Herbology, and then Exceeds Expectations in the others! And you?" He asked excitedly.

"Outstanding in all, except for History of Magic, where I got Exceeds Expectations!"

"Wow! Great job, Artemisia! I knew that you'd do well, you studied at least double what I did, not that you needed it of course, but still."

"Thank you, Ulric, I'm really proud of you too!"

"Thanks! So hey, when is the train leaving? Do you know?"

"Yes, I think they said it would leave in a couple of hours. Are you already packed?"

"Mostly, but I still have a couple more things to pack. You?"

"Same. We should go, yes?"

"Sure."

They walked back to the common room talking animatedly without any confrontations except for a very brief exchange with the Quarrelsome Quartet. The Gryffindors looked as if they had been expecting them, and it looked like things were going to get ugly until, completely out of nowhere, Professor Snape rounded the corner and sent the wayward Gryffindors back to their side of the castle. Breathing a sigh of relief, the two Slytherins arrived at their common room unscathed. They packed wordlessly and boarded the train in the same manner. It wasn't until they were almost in London that Ulric broke the silence.

"I know that you probably won't be able to write, but do you think your aunt would let you receive letters?"

"I honestly don't know. I guess it's worth a shot. I think I'm also going to start researching alternative communication methods."

"Yeah, that'd be a good idea. But don't worry, it's only like three months, and then we'll be back at Hogwarts. I think we can make it." He said, smiling at her.

"Ulric, I must confess, you are one of the weirdest Slytherins I have ever met, and in this case, it's a good thing. All the other Slytherins I know are hopelessly uptight and malicious, myself included at times. I want to thank you for your friendship, I don't know what I would have done without you this year."

"Don't mention it. My mother is always telling me to act more Slytherin too, but I can't help it, it's just the way I have always been."

"I think you're perfectly fine the way you are. You should never have to change for anyone. I'm serious. Ultimately, even if everything is taken from you, the last thing you will always have is yourself, and your character. No one can take that from you, regardless of how hard they might try. If you remain strong, you can always find solace within yourself."

"Wow, Artemisia, how do you always come up with such deep speeches like that out of nowhere? I mean, they're bloody brilliant! I wish I could talk like you…"

"I can only give speeches on matters that I've thought about at great length. I can't just give speeches about anything, but I'm glad you appreciate them."

"Yeah, no problem. Hey, it looks like we're here. I guess I'll see you next year then?" He said, standing up as the train came to a halt. He helped her lift her trunk from the overhead rack and gave her a quick hug goodbye.

"Yes, I have the feeling that the summer will not be able to end fast enough. Thank you for all your help." She replied gratefully and hugged him back. "See you next year, stay safe." Her eyes looked into his mournfully, almost as if she expected something to happen to him.

"You too. Don't let those Death Eaters get you down!" He said jokingly, but his concern was still evident behind his light tone. They left the train, each going to their respective families and not even chancing a second glance behind them. Although they didn't know it, they were both experiencing the same sinking feeling that the summer would bring unwanted surprises.

**~o~O~o~**

Artemisia was off to a good start, or so she believed. She had managed to spend the last week holed up in one of the dark recesses of the library. She was able to, for the most part, avoid her harridan of an aunt, and instead found an unlikely companion in her cousins, Estesia and Nalicia. They were thirteen and nine, respectively, and were much better company than their twin brothers, Indiel and Astivus, who were of the same mindset as their mother.

The twins were both fifteen, and on their way to bring their family glory, honor and favor with their pledged service to the Minister. They would become official initiates when they turned sixteen, so in the meantime, they spent their time studying the dark arts. Of the two of them, Astivus (who was older by three minutes), was far more cunning than Indiel, whose specialty was following orders. Indiel however, possessed a bloodlust that, within a few years, might even rival the Minister's. Astivus was far more level-headed, and while he enjoyed a good revel, he preferred curses to the physical, brutal torment that Indiel preferred.

Their younger sisters were a completely different story altogether. The elder sister, Estesia, was every bit the thirteen-year-old pureblood lady one would expect her to be. Always calm, poise, and politely condescending. She wore her waist-length blonde hair in a complicated up-do that looked far too mature for her age. Everything about her implied that she was no more than a little girl playing dress-up in her mother's clothes. Everything from her self-righteous attitude, to the dress robes she was never without, to the way she spoke, as if she was the only one whose opinion mattered. In short, Artemisia found her wholly annoying. However, the only passable thing about Estesia was that she was far above tormenting her younger cousin, and instead opted for ignorance or polite conversation at best, snide comments and backhanded compliments at worst.

Nalicia, only being nine years old, was not yet fully indoctrinated into the pureblood lifestyle. Sure, she admired her older sister, but she gravitated more towards Artemisia, who was closest to her age. As much as Artemisia pretended to dislike her company, she actually was quite fond of the little girl, whose dreamy outlook on life was a comforting haven for the horror-filled reality that Artemisia had become firmly acquainted with. The little girl also had blonde hair, but hers hang to her shoulders in tiny ringlets that bounced whenever she walked.

Somehow, in the relatively short amount of time they had spent together, due mainly to Artemisia's avoidance of them, they had grown on her. She would not go so far as to call them friends, but casual acquaintances, perhaps. Nevertheless, almost immediately after arriving from Hogwarts, Estesia had found her way into Artemisia's bedroom and had taken it upon herself to ensure that Artemisia would not become a disgrace to the family. In her own opinion, Artemisia was being negligent in her pureblood studies, had faulty etiquette, did not dress according to her status, and desperately needed some sort of female influence in her life. Artemisia had initially scoffed at this. Repeatedly.

Unfortunately, her lovely aunt had intervened and informed Artemisia that she would be under Estesia's tutelage at least until the remainder of the summer. Artemisia had scoffed once more.

This is how the presence of both her female cousins had been inflicted upon Artemisia. The first week or so was completely dull and unnecessary. _Has she forgotten that I _know_ how to act the subservient little pureblood, I just _choose_ not to?_ Artemisia thought often. Artemisia knew perfect etiquette, but chose not to use it around her family, whom she felt did not deserve such a symbol of respect. Her pureblood studies were also above reproach, although she had many unvoiced questions concerning the point of it all. She understood the need to ensure magical offspring, and she thought that marrying a muggle was outright appalling, but she felt that marrying her cousin or even second cousin really wasn't much better. Estesia's help proved useful for a few weeks, however, when they went out on a massive shopping spree and bought Artemisia new, fitted dress robes. Apparently there was to be no casual-wear where one might see you. Thus, high collars and tight bodices were to become Artemisia's newest and closest companions (not that she was particularly pleased with this development). The how-to-dress-properly section of her education really only lasted until July, when they all agreed there was no more work to be done in that area.

This left one more issue on Estesia's reasons for encroaching upon Artemisia's solitude: adequate female influence. _What the hell is that supposed to mean?_ Artemisia had thought bitterly. Apparently, it had begun with awkward conversations about school, and whether or not Artemisia fancied anyone. At this point, Artemisia was quick to remind her cousin that one, she was twelve, and two, she already had an arranged marriage, so what should it matter if she fancied anyone if nothing could ever come of it? That had been the end of that conversation.

Estesia had tried a new tactic the next week. She had excitement written all over her normally perfectly schooled face as she calmly walked into the library to seek Artemisia. She explained that she had found an extremely old book concerning lost women's magic. This held Artemisia's interest as her cousin explained that long ago, long before the establishment of the MoM, women possessed very strong magic. It was elemental magic, stemming from childbirth and their ability to create life. It was extremely powerful, but as women became increasingly oppressed, the old ways were lost to many. The old texts were burned, and it became no more than a fable. Estesia had all but flounced into the library because she had managed to come by one of those lost texts, and let's face it, it could be the lost text on flobberworms, and Artemisia would read it, if only for the sake of new knowledge. In short, it was not hard to capture her interest in this new, foreign topic. It could, after all, prove to be a very valuable asset.

It was in this manner that they began to legitimately spend time together. They first read the book, which was a challenge in itself, not only because they read at different speeds, but also because it was written entirely in runes. Artemisia had not yet been able to take Ancient Runes at school, but Rowan, as her tutor, had covered the basics with her so that they could study other ancient texts. Estesia had received the same education, but had less of an aptitude for it. Therefore, Artemisia translated and Estesia was generally just in the way. In perfect honesty, Artemisia didn't need anyone to study with, certainly not while sharing a book, but that was the only way that she would gain access to the precious book. So she begrudgingly suffered her cousin's presence. _Oh the things I do for knowledge!_ She thought wistfully.

There was a specific part of the book that sincerely intrigued Artemisia. It was the chapters about ancient blessings and undetectable mind control that had captured her interest beyond the usual curses and hexes. However, before any such magic could be attempted, there were certain prerequisites that had to be completed. Apparently, the beginning to any of the ancient magic described was lengthy hours of meditation and "soul-searching," which Artemisia wasn't particularly looking forward to. Luckily, she had all summer to get through it.

**~o~O~o~**

"Artemisia! Get down here this instant!"

"Yes, Aunt." Artemisia walked calmly down the stairs (ladies don't run), and curtsied when she saw her Aunt and Marcus standing in the drawing room.

"Your manners have indeed improved." Her aunt praised lightly. "Now they're merely atrocious, rather than the abomination they were."

"You have been summoned because I am here to inform you that I shall be hosting the next ball this Saturday. You are, of course, required to attend, as well as join us after the ball for…further festivities." Said Marcus, smiling gruesomely at both Belladonna's earlier jibe and the implications of what 'further festivities' might mean.

"Yes, father. It would be an honor."

"Very well. You will be collected Saturday at eight."

"In the evening?"

"Of course! Why would I bother with you in the morning? What business would you have roaming about the house all day? You would be nothing more than a nuisance. An unwanted pest. I shall see you then." With a flurry of robes, Marcus vanished into smoke, the preferred method of transportation of Death Eaters. _I have really got to learn how to do that…it looks much easier than apparition…and certainly more dramatic!_ She thought, smirking.

"Well? What are you doing standing there, grinning like an idiot? Get on with you! Out of my sight, impertinent chit!" Her aunt shrieked, effectively jolting her out of her thoughts.

Artemisia dutifully made herself scarce. It would do no good to invoke her aunt's wrath, especially not for something so stupid. So, she retreated to the library in the hopes that it would be devoid of cousins. Luckily for her, it was. She remembered, while browsing through books for something interesting to read, that she had agreed to research alternate communication methods, since she was not allowed to send owls.

Selecting a few promising books, she sat down to read. Two-way mirrors were out, it would really be too obvious and difficult to hide. Not to mention, people tended to wonder why you were speaking to a mirror. There was a vague reference to spelling two small boxes to act as a vanishing cabinet of sorts, but it was mostly for parcels. Messenger Patroni were also out, not only because they were about as subtle as Gryffindors, but neither Artemisia nor Ulric could cast it yet. Artemisia could cast a weak patronus, but it had yet to take an animal shape. Portraits ran similar risks to two-way mirrors, and were hardly helpful. There were telepathy potions, but those wouldn't work over long distances.

It wasn't until she noticed she couldn't see anymore that she realized night had fallen. Tired, Artemisia went to her room, and decided to write in her journal for a bit. The moment her quill touched the paper, an idea sprung to mind. _Enchanted notebooks!_ She thought happily. A modified protean charm would do most of the work, and it would allow them to communicate via two-way journals. Everything written in one, would show up in the other, and it wasn't even a hard spell to do. Ever since the Minister's rise to power, Underage Magic Laws had become extremely lax. As long as the Statute of Secrecy wasn't violated, and no one was seriously injured, a student could pretty much do as they pleased after their 11th birthday. It was glorious.

Transfiguring identical notebooks out of scraps of parchment, Artemisia set to work, finishing them before bed. She hid them under her mattress, and despite how cliché the action seemed, the truth was that no one ever bothered to look there. Not even the house elves. It was such a muggle gesture, and if a witch or wizard was suspected of hiding something, it was expected that said object(s) would be heavily warded, not concealed in a seemingly innocuous location.

_Well, that's one problem solved. Rather ironic that it's the least pressing…_Artemisia thought sleepily. She changed into her nightgown quickly and got into bed, putting out her candle with a wave of her wand. Snuggled between soft bed sheets, she wondered, not for the first time, what the future had in store for her: illegitimate child, pureblood, raised by death eaters, generally disliked, often avoided. It was not a train of thought she wished to continue. Still plagued by uncertainty, she drifted off into sleep.

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><p><strong>AN: I'm sorry that this chapter is so late! I was overcome with a horrid case of writer's block, and this chapter isn't terribly exciting. It's more of a necessary filler before any significant events take place. The ball should be interesting ;) and that's all I have to say about that! Just the same, I love you guys, thanks for the support! Please R&R….it would make me very happy :D **


	7. The Calm Before the Storm

**A/N: Hey, how many of you guys managed to get into the Beta program at MyHogwarts? It was a very stressful process for me XD haha but I'm glad I got in :D **

**((Bold denotes Ulric's writing, and **_**Italics**_** is Artemisia's))**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

August was rapidly coming to a close, and there was a certain chill in the air that seemed to be manifesting prematurely for the season. The day of the ball had arrived, and with it, had brought an all-consuming dread that seemed to hover about the house and permeate it with negativity.

School began in about a week, and Artemisia would have been happy to be going back, had she been able to think of it. She was far too caught up with worrying about the ball. She had been ready since noon, and there were still several hours to go until her presence was required. The two-way notebooks had been shrunken and stuffed in her bodice (which was currently not allowing her to breathe).

She was currently pacing around her room, trying to calm her nerves. She had already taken three calming draughts, and they had been of no help to her. She would have lied down for a while, but it would have upset the elaborate plait that encircled her head and framed the remaining hair that was piled delicately atop her head. To be honest, she thought she looked ridiculous. _I'm only twelve! Thirteen this December, but this hairdo is for someone at least twice my age!_

She had not had any luck in convincing her aunt of such, and so, her head felt like it was going to explode. Sighing with resignation, she decided to go to the library and wait there. At least she'd be doing something productive.

**~o~O~o~**

The party was just as lavish as it had been any other time. No one had arrived yet, though. Marcus had told her to wait in one of the sitting rooms until he came to collect her, so she had even more waiting to do. It was a bit unusual for her to have to wait to be announced, as it were, but then again, he always seemed to have some hidden agenda. After several minutes, she began to hear people filing in. To pass the time, she tried to guess the guest based on their voices and how they walked. She knew that Avery, Rookwood, Mulciber, the Carrows, and her uncle had already arrived. She strained to listen for the arrival of Ulric and his mother, with whom she was only mildly familiar. She did, however, hear the almost soundless footsteps and authoritative voice of her Potions Professor. She wasn't sure exactly why, but his presence reassured her marginally. He, at least, was someone who had been completely honest with her, rather than try and protect or deceive her.

The hour gradually advanced until it was a quarter past ten. It was then that Marcus came in to collect her. He took her by the arm in a seemingly polite gesture, but Artemisia knew it was simply a way to control her, to ensure that she wouldn't try to run. It also kept her within arm's reach, should he feel that she needed _discipline_. It was not a position Artemisia was comfortable with.

They walked into the large ballroom, and as if on cue, everyone stopped what they were doing to turn and look at them. She held her head proud, and glared with silent challenge at the masses that stared at her. She was led into the center of the room, where Marcus made his announcement.

"As you know, my comrades, my daughter has shown herself to be insubordinate and rebellious. As she is, she is a liability. I have recognized this, and have realized that it cannot be allowed to continue. The last time she came before us, she proved that she is not worthy of servitude for our master."

Artemisia was suddenly bewildered, and knew not what to do. She became vaguely aware of a sinking feeling in the put of her stomach. It was then that amidst the crowd of people she noticed many Death Eaters unknown to her grinning lasciviously. Those that she knew, however, were looking at her with something best described as sympathy. Her thoughts were disturbed, however, when Marcus made the rest of his announcement.

"As such, I shall be auctioning her to the highest bidder. The winner may do with her as he pleases. She is unfit to continue as a member of our society."

Artemisia's eyes grew wide, and she fought to keep her composure in check. _Surely he can't mean that! I'm only twelve! Who knows what atrocities I'd be forced to participate in…oh gods, he said they could do _whatever_ they pleased….oh gods, I think I'm going to be sick… _She thought. Her breathing became shallow and labored, and her vision slowly lost focus. The room was spinning beneath her feet as she began to hyperventilate. _No, no, no! Anything but this! _She was well aware that there were many sick and depraved Death Eaters, and pureblood or not, it would not matter to them.

Marcus' grip on her arm was the only thing that kept her upright. He started the bidding, and she could hear that she had already reached seventy thousand galleons. She felt something run down her face, and it wasn't until the salty flavor hit her lips that she realized she was crying silently. She had firmly shut her eyes against the cold, probing eyes that were trained on her, and now she had no idea who was betting. She certainly could not see the furious black eyes that glared at Marcus murderously. Those same eyes held a flicker of inspiration before their owner drew his wand and held it to himself. Nor could she see the heavy wooden doors that were thrown open magically a few minutes later and consequently halted the bid.

"Well, well, Marcus. I would never have guessed that you would have held a party without inviting me. It almost feels…intentional." The Minister's cold, red eyes glared at Marcus. "I expected better from you, given your current _situation_. _CRUCIO_!"

Marcus fell to the ground in agony, releasing her as he led out a blood-curdling scream. He writhed in numbing pain as the torture continued for several minutes. When he was finally released, he was panting heavily. Artemisia was frozen in place. She hoped that if she didn't move, she might simply be over looked. No such luck.

"Marcus. I think I shall be taking your young one with me." An angry outburst from the current highest bidder made the Minister fire off a killing curse at the offender without second thought. "Come, little one." He commanded, and Artemisia numbly walked towards him. Yes, her night had just gotten exponentially worse. He lifted her chin with one hand, and looked at her appraisingly. "Yes, you will do." He decided. He spun around, motioning for her to follow him as he strode out the door.

She followed, and was surprised to see Ulric near the door with a horrified expression on his face. He looked at her sympathetically, and as she brushed past him, she shoved the shrunken notebook into his hand. The action was concealed by their robes brushing together. This small act was enough to elicit the tiniest amount of hope in Artemisia. Whatever happened, at least she would not feel as alone.

**~o~O~o~**

"From now on, you shall address me either as your Lord or master. I expect your full cooperation, and no lasting harm will come to you. You will learn that I can be very generous, but only as long as you follow my every instruction. Is that understood?"

Artemisia had been taken to what she could only assume was the Minister's secret base of operations. She had been blindfolded during and after apparition, and now she was standing in what looked like a throne room. Several of the highest ranking Death Eaters stood to the sides. They were all masked, so she knew not who they were.

She could not bring herself to call him her master, so she settled for Lord. "Yes, My Lord."

"Very good. That's a good pet. Now, I have decided that you have potential. You will, under my orders, be educated in the ways of the Dark Arts. I despise waste, and I will not allow your potential to be wasted. Marcus is no longer your legal guardian, nor is your aunt. After all, it's not like he's your real father anyway. Isn't that right?"

Artemisia tried to hide her surprise as she whispered, "Yes, my Lord" cautiously.

"Very well. As such, for the time being, I shall become your legal guardian. Perhaps in the future I may appoint someone else for this task…" He mused. Smirking, which was a truly frightening sight, he advanced on her. "You will be staying here for now. I believe Avery will escort you to your chambers." He paused for a bit, and then, as if he remembered something, he added, "You will not attempt escape. You will not forget that it is I who have delivered you from the fate Marcus had planned for you. You _will_ be grateful. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes, my Lord." She said. He nodded and motioned for Avery, who nodded for her to follow him. They walked silently down the long, winding corridors until they reached a small wooden door. It was partially hidden in an alcove that seemed to blend in with the rest of the wall. They walked through, and were enveloped in darkness. Granted, the corridor hadn't been much better, but at least they could see. _Lumos_, he whispered.

A soft white light illuminated their immediate surroundings, allowing Avery to reach for a torch and light it. He carried it as they walked, and Artemisia took the time to contemplate where they were. It felt like a dungeon, really. The air was dank and a bit musty. There were old tapestries on the walls, depicting a number of gory scenes, most of which revolved around torture of some kind. After some time, they came across yet another door, and when they passed through, the mood changed immediately. There was a soft light coming from a fireplace, and although the air was still musty, this room was pleasantly warm, and almost bordered on inviting.

It reminded Artemisia of the Slytherin common room. There were antique sofas and armchairs scattered about the room, all upholstered in black and varying shades of grey. There were rich, plush, emerald area rugs placed near clusters of armchairs and an especially expensive one sat in front of the fireplace. There were bookshelves that lined every wall, filled to the brim with dark texts and old tomes. Many of which were first editions, or the last of their kind. There were also two winding staircases in the middle of the room which seemed to lead in opposite directions.

She looked at Avery questioningly, and he smiled tightly. "I take it you've noticed the similarities?" He asked. She nodded.

"The Dark Lord has a bit of sense of humor, see. Your room is up the staircase winding counter-clockwise. It's the fourth to the left. I warn you, though, not to go up the other staircase. It has been enchanted not to allow any but those it is intended for. That, and there's an age limit on it. But you needn't worry about it." He explained. "I have to go. Your things have already been taken to your room. You should go get situated." With that, he turned and left her.

She tentatively walked up the indicated staircase, and made her way to her room. When she opened the door, however, she had to stifle a gasp. To say that it was "big" would have been an enormous understatement. To her left, there was a large desk that was set up as a partition, since it wound opposite to the corner of the wall, so that when one sat at it, they could face either the right wall or the back wall. Upon inspection it was revealed that it contained several reams of paper and enough quills and ink to last her several months.

Next to the desk, still on the left wall, was a large bookcase, but with books more suitable for her place in education. On the right wall, there was a fireplace and a comfortable looking couch and armchair. There was also a coffee table that held a medium-sized package wrapped in simple brown paper. She decided to open it later.

At the back of the room, there was an enormous four-poster bed with elegant emerald sheets. The comforter, also emerald in color, was lined with delicate embroidery. In the middle of the room was a large, grey sheepskin rug. On one side of the bed was a large armoire in ebony wood, while on the other, there was a vanity. The mirror seemed to be held by wrought-iron serpents that wound themselves around it and the rest of the vanity. On the left wall, next to the bookshelf, were three doors.

The first, she came to realize, contained her own personal potions lab. It was stocked with both common and rare ingredients, as well as an enchanted order form that would be sent directly to the Dark Lord if she ever needed anything other than what had been given to her (since those were self-replenishing). She grinned happily with her discovery, and hurried to the other rooms to see what they contained.

The second held what seemed to be a sort of fitness room. There were dueling dummies, as well as punching bags and the wizard equivalent of a treadmill. In the very back was an area screened off for meditation. There were miniature waterfalls and a mat on which to sit. Hs remembered that one of the key components of learning "woman's magic" was lengthy hours of meditation, so she was grateful that she had been provided with an area to do so. Not that the Dark Lord knew, of course, but it was still a nice touch.

The final room was probably the most elaborate, as it held the bathroom. Sure, it began as any other, with a sink and toilet, but the tub rivaled the one in the Prefect's bathroom. It was bigger, and with more options of scented oils and soaps. Looking up, she realized that the ceiling was covered in a hand-painted mural that seemed to depict the likenesses of the Greek Gods, as well as other mythological beings. Oh yes, she could definitely get used to this.

She walked back out into the main room, and, remembering the package, walked over to open it. After checking it for dark magic, she began opening it. Heavy black robes spilled out into her hands, and she held them up for inspection. There was intricate embroidery (also in black) that lined the hems, and it seemed to have been tailored. Standing, she decided to try it on, since it was hard to tell what it looked like while it was still in her hands. The fastenings were a bit complicated, since it consisted of form-fitting trousers that were covered by a sort of dress. The dress had tight, long sleeves that flared a bit at the cuffs, as well as a high neckline that ended with a series of tiny buttons that led down to her waist. After all this, there was a voluminous black robe that was fitted only around her waist, but enveloped the rest of her like a shroud. She walked over to the mirror to inspect the peculiar garment, and this time was unable to suppress a gasp. The robes were a variation on the Death Eater robes that they all wore. It had obviously been created specifically for her, and she couldn't help but wonder why.

Walking back to its wrappings, she noticed that it had also come with dragonhide boots that went up to her knees, as well as a folded note with her name on it.

_Artemisia,_ it read,

_The Dark Lord wished for you to have these. He said to tell you that upon taking the mark, you'll get a mask to go with it. Consider the boots, however, as a sort of early birthday present. Do not mention where you got them. Also, they come with knife sheaths on the inside, as well as holders for your wand, or for an extra wand. They will grow as you do. I have taken the liberty of placing charms on them that will not allow them to be damaged nor stolen. I hope you find them to be of use._

_-SS_

Artemisia grinned. She couldn't help it. She had never been given something like this. They were utterly magnificent! Throwing the note into the fireplace, lest it be discovered, she took off the robes and folded them neatly. She was not sure exactly what she was supposed to do, so she opted for waiting to be called…or not.

It was at this moment that she felt her bodice heat up marginally, and realized that it wasn't the bodice, but what it contained. Pulling out and unshrinking the tiny notebook, she settled at her desk to read it.

**Hey Artemisia?**

**Are you there?**

**I'm not really sure how these things work…**

_Yes, Ulric, I am here. _

**Oh, thank the gods! Are you okay?**

_Yes, I am fine._

**Great! Where'd he take you?**

_Honestly, I'm not sure. However, wherever I am, I'm not sure that I'm inclined to leave._ _It's really quite nice here._

**Are you mad?**

_No, but all things considered, it could be worse._

**So what happened, exactly?**

_The Dark Lord basically said that I had potential and that I was to be taught the Dark_ _Arts. Meanwhile, I am to stay here._

**Hmm, well hey, at least you're not with your aunt, right?**

_Exactly. Thank Merlin for the little things. They gave me Death Eater robes too._

**Wow. Are you serious? Does that mean you're one of them now?**

_Not exactly. I won't be given a mask until I take the mark. That is, IF I take the mark._

**So you don't plan to?**

_I don't know if it's in my best interest yet. I don't really care either way, but I'll follow_ _whichever path benefits me most._

**I see. So that's it then?**

_What do you mean?_

**Am I ever going to see you again?**

_Probably. I mean, term starts soon._

**You honestly think he's going to let you go?**

_Why wouldn't he? I thought he wanted me to get an education._

**Think about it. If he kept you nearby, he could personally make sure you were learning** **exactly what he wanted you to without any outside interferences. **

_I guess so…but wouldn't that be a bit suspicious?_

**Artemisia! He's the bloody Minister! Who cares if it looks suspicious! There isn't a** **damned thing anyone can do about it!**

_Oh bloody hell. You're right._

**Of COURSE I'm right! Oh gods, I'm never going to see you again…**

_Oh quit being such a bloody Hufflepuff! You forget that you'll be attending the revels_ _soon. I'm sure our paths will cross eventually._

**I guess…you sure you don't want me to like, break you out of there or something?**

_What are you going to do? Release your inner Gryffindor and barge in here and get_ _yourself killed? No. I'm actually quite pleased with my accommodations, and so far I_ _have no reason to hate it here. So in short, you will stay out of it. Am I understood?_

**Yeah, yeah. I guess.**

_Now, I hear someone coming. I have to go. We'll speak tomorrow._

She didn't read his reply, because as soon as she had shrunken and hid the book, the door had swung open. The man that stood there was at least six or seven years older than Artemisia, he was young, but had clearly already taken the mark. He was tall and slightly muscular, with broad shoulders. He had bright green eyes that seemed to pierce into your soul and messy, shoulder-length brown hair that framed his face. His name was Athel, and he was her betrothed.

She eyed him cautiously, questioningly, clearly mistrusting him. She opened her mouth to speak, but her beat her to it.

"Your presence has been requested, and I have been sent to collect you." He said evenly, looking at her intently. He seemed to be trying to study her, uncertain of how to proceed. They had obviously met before, but they had not seen each other since before Adelia's death. Artemisia stood and walked to him slowly. He took a step forward, and before she could protest, he embraced her.

"I'm sorry I have not been in touch. I did not know if it was safe to do so…" He whispered against her hair. "Please forgive my inattention. It was unforgiveable." He kissed the top of her head and pulled back a bit, keeping his arms around her. He looked searchingly into her eyes.

She met his gaze and smiled slightly. "I cannot forgive you." She said softly, and seeing the downcast look he adopted, hastened to continue, "There is nothing to forgive." At this, his eyes lit up, and he embraced her once more, lifting her and spinning her about a couple of times.

"Oh, Misi! I have missed you so much!"

"And I, you, Athel." She said, laughing softly as he kissed her hand. He placed said hand in the crook of his arm as he led her out the door.

"I may have seemed absent, but I have been keeping tabs on you these years, little one. I'm so proud of you…my clever little witch…" He said affectionately. Artemisia smiled to herself; yes, she could definitely get used to this place.

Her's and Athel's relationship had been unique, to say the least. She had not understood what it had meant to be betrothed until she was around six years old, but by then, they had already been good friends. Since he had understood their situation far longer than she, he had always been there to attend to her every need. He would feed her and play with her when she was little. When she had gotten a little older, they had had conversations on whatever she had read. He would comfort her when her parents would fight and he happened to be around. She had been so overcome in grief when Adelia had died, that she had almost forgotten to mourn his absence as well. He had never been anything but a perfect gentleman towards her, and she could not have been happier.

As they walked back to the throne room, they caught each other up on any significant events that had passed. Apparently, he had actually been out of the country recently with a group of Death Eaters on a mission to steal a magical artifact from a horde of vicious dragons. Surprisingly enough, they had managed to complete their mission. Unfortunately, Athel had been the only one to survive. However, as such, he received a the full reward from the Dark Lord, and had been able to join the Inner Circle.

When they finally approached the throne room, they fell silent. Walking in, they were faced by a deafening silence. The only sounds that could be heard were their footsteps on the shiny black marble floor. They walked, arms still linked, until they were directly in front of the throne, at which time they let go of each other and sank to their knees, head bowed. They remained like this for several minutes as they waited for the Dark Lord to acknowledge them. At length he did,

"Rise, my servants." He rasped. He turned his head slightly to look at Artemisia, "I suppose you are wondering why I have summoned you here again." She did not dare respond.

"I have finalized your schedule for the time you spend here. I trust you found your quarters to be satisfactory?"

"Yes, my Lord. Thank you."

He waved his hand dismissively. "Yes, well anyway. You will not be returning to Hogwarts this year. You will instead be taking private lessons with a few hand-picked tutors that I have chosen for you." He pulled out a piece of rolled-up parchment from his robes, and read aloud from it.

"At six in the morning, you are to report to the dining room for breakfast. You will then go to the library, where Avery will be your Potions and Herbology tutor. You will study Ancient Runes and Arithmancy independently, and Rosier will check with you periodically to ensure you are progressing adequately in your studies. For anything and everything concerning the Dark Arts, you will seek out Bellatrix after your session with Avery. Lastly, you will learn Charms and Transfiguration from Macnair. Any free time you possess will be spent advancing in your lessons. Have I made myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"Very well. Now, you are to join us for dinner. After which, you will return to your rooms."

She nodded, but the gesture was not noted, for he was already out of his seat and walking towards the dining hall.

**~o~O~o~**

Dinner had passed without much preamble. When Artemisia was finally escorted back to her room, she decided to write to Ulric and let him know what had happened.

_Are you there?_

**Yes, is something wrong?**

_No, but I have news to share. I just returned from dinner with the Dark Lord._

**What did he say?**

_I will not be returning to Hogwarts. I am to stay here and learn from other Death Eaters._

**What the hell! You can't let him do that! You have to come back to Hogwarts! Don't you** **remember what he did to you last December?**

_Yes, Ulric, I know. But this is my best option at the moment. I am safe here._

**SAFE? How can you say you're SAFE? He's hurt you once, what's saying that he won't do it** **again?**

_There is no guarantee, of course, but as long as I do as I'm told and keep a low profile, I have_ _nothing to worry about._

_**Nothing to worry about**_**? Have you gone **_**mad**_**?**

_No, I have not. I know what I'm doing._

**Do you? Do you really?**

_Yes. I told you already, I don't have a choice, and right now, I am not in immediate danger._

**You DO have a choice! Come on, we could go someplace, we could run. **

_Are you even listening to yourself? That is the most utterly idiotic thing I have heard in a long_ _time._

**Oh, so is that what you think of me, then? I'm an idiot?**

_No, but you're acting like one. Do you even remember who you are? Do you even remember on_ _who's side you're on? Where do your allegiances even lie?_

**I don't even know anymore…it's difficult, and the Minister has never helped me in any way. I do not feel indebted to him.**

_Those are dangerous things to feel Ulric. _

**So you're going to sit there and tell me you're okay with all this? All the violence, and murder, and torture? You just don't care? Where do **_**your**_** allegiances lie?**

_They lie within me. I will do what I must in order to make it out alive. I will do what must be done, damn it! If this keeps me alive, then so be it. I have tasks I need to accomplish, and I will do whatever it takes to do so…this may only be temporary._

**What the hell, Artemisia! When did you become such a self-serving, egotistical, **_**bitch**_**? **

_You forget yourself, Ulric. Now stop before you make a fool of yourself. There is a reason I was_ _sorted into Slytherin. In case you forgot, it's in our nature to be self-serving. If you wanted to be_ _coddled, you should have been sorted into Hufflepuff. My reasons are my own. Do not question_ _me on this again._

**That's it, I can't talk to you right now. I feel like I don't know you anymore.**

_The feeling is mutual._

**~o~O~o~**

The next few weeks passed similarly, she was never without an escort, and to be perfectly honest, had no real free time. She had done as the Dark Lord had instructed and had filled her time with her studies. She figured that she was nearing the point where her "professors" would soon not have anything more to teach her.

She was also faced with a most frustrating predicament. She had no real grasp on the amount of time that had passed. There were no windows (she suspected they were underground), and no calendars of any kind. The enchantments placed upon the establishment did not allow for Tempus charms, and she was almost certain that the meals were randomized daily. Often, she would have breakfast food and then be sent straight to bed, or wake up and have what could have passed as dinner for her first meal of the day. It was maddening. To further her torment, Ulric was still ignoring her. It was painful because regardless of what happened, he had been her first and only friend at Hogwarts. To have him reject her like this was painful. It pained her that she was so isolated from the rest of the world, but there was naught she could do about it.

**~o~O~o~**

"Ohh…is the Dark Lord's pet having trouble concentrating? Perhaps a bit of pain would drag her mind back to the present…"

Artemisia had to learn the hard way that Bellatrix was always very eager to make good on her threats, and as such, had endeavored never to allow her the pleasure again.

"No, Bella. I'm sorry, I was only contemplating what you had just said. That's all."

"Oh, and what was that?"

"Well, the point you were making about _Crucio_ being the most effective torture method…what if there were more effective spells that have been lost over time?" She lied easily.

"Yes, well. That's not what we're learning, are we? We're focusing on how to handle prisoners with the options available to us now, not with methods lost to time."

"My apologies. Could we continue?" She asked.

"Hmph…I suppose. But the next time I catch your mind drifting, you'll be in for a most _interesting_ surprise…" She threatened.

"Now, it's essential that prisoners have their spirits broken. It's the only way to keep your control over them. Usually, solitary confinement in total darkness has the desired effect. Also if you make sure they have no way of keeping time, that helps to break their spirits faster…"

**~o~O~o~**

_With the Elder Futhark Alphabet, one must remember that there are not always exact translations when trying to write English or Latin words in Runic. For example, there is no direct translation for the sound "EI" instead, one must substitute "eihwaz" the runic word for "yew tree." Similarly, the combination "NG" is translated as a single rune, "inguz" the runic word for the god Ing…_

Artemisia's reading was interrupted by Rosier's entrance. He looked at her pleasantly, expectant. Putting the book away, she stood to face him. "I have memorized the Runic alphabet and have been practicing with more complex arithmantic equations. So far, I have no questions."

"Very well. Tell me, were you interested in Chapter fourteen?"

"Oh yes, I found it most interesting. I think it's amazing that such powerful magic can be performed by simply writing runes on a sheet of paper and burning it in special rituals. It's a shame the ritual paper is so hard to come by, otherwise so many more could be utilizing such powerful magic."

"Well yes, but you must also remember, that it draws very powerful elemental magic that could seriously harm the initiator if they are not adequately prepared."

"I know, and I suppose it's too powerful a weapon to have _everyone_ capable of wielding. Not to mention, not many possess the raw magical power to control it."

"Well yes, there is that too." He grinned at her conspiratorially.

**~o~O~o~**

Time came and went, and Artemisia advanced quite admirably in her studies. Her quarters were gradually becoming colder and far more damp. She could feel the winter cold seeping into her bones despite the raging fire before her as she sat in front of the fireplace. The frigid ice crept slowly into her, gripping her heart until it was painful. She was well acquainted with this feeling, it came every November since her mother's death. It was a deadly cocktail of grief, remorse, and furious vengeance. The time was swiftly approaching. She could tell. One more month and she'd be thirteen. It was early, yes, but she needed to start training. Only then would she be able to meet her self-imposed deadline.

Thirteen. She was still so young. So young and thrown headfirst into a world divided. A cruel world, a harsh world. A mad world. She knew that once she took the first step, it would be irreversible. Any possibilities of preserving her childhood would have to be thrown out the proverbial window. But she had to try.

It had taken her some time to piece together exactly what her motivations were, and while she was loath to admit it, her last conversation with Ulric had spouted some unwanted introspection. Oh, she knew what she wanted, all right. And she'd be damned if she didn't get it. She would succeed. Any other alternative was inconceivable. Rising from her chair, she walked to her personal gym, settling down in her meditation corner, calming herself before her routine. The calm before the storm.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Please let me know what you think! Don't forget to review! :D**


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